R  FRANCIS  BACON'S 


CIPHER  STORY 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SIR  FRANCIS  BACON'S 


CIPHER  STORY 


DISCOVERED  AND  DECIPHERED  BY 


ORVILLE  W.  OWEN,  M.  D. 


BOOK  III. 


DETROIT  AND  NEW  YORK  : 

HOWARD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
1894. 


Copyright,   1894, 
BY  ORVILLE  W.  OWEN. 


2)ebication. 


To  Mrs.  E.  W.  Gallup,  Miss  K.  E.  Wells  and 
Miss  O.  E.  Wheeler,  this  book  is  dedicated  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  their  valuable  assistance  in  deci- 
phering, by  the  rules  of  the  Cipher,  Volumes  II. 
and  III.  of  the  Cipher  Story. 

O.  W.  O. 


INTRODUCTION. 

(BOOK   UI.) 


Bacon*  s  account  of  the  Spanish  Armada  completed  in  this 
volume,  must  rank  as  one  of  the  great  Historical  Poems. 
The  account  runs  smoothly  in  the  iambic  verse  of  that  period, 
and  while  prolix,  is  full  of  beautiful  imagery,  allegorical  descrip- 
tions, flights  of  fancy,  flashes  of  wit,  and  deep  philosophy.  It  is 
deciphered  mostly  from  the  Shakespearian  Plays,  and  from  the 
Faerie-Queene,  but  portions  are  found  in  the  works  of  Peel, 
Greene,  Marlowe,  Burton  and  Bacon. 

Book  II  closed  with  the  vision  of  Bacon  while  in  the  water  in 
a  drowning  condition,  after  the  wreck  of  his  little  shallop, 
regaining  consciousness  to  find  himself  on  the  deck  of  the  vessel 
which  had  caused  the  disaster,  and  by  the  crew  of  which  he  and 
the  Spaniard  had  been  rescued.  The  account  of  what  followed 
the  rescue— the  discourse  of  Bacon  and  Don  Pedro— the  efforts  of 
the  former  to  secure  for  a  brave  man  the  merciful  consideration  of 
the  Queen — the  plea  of  Don  Pedro  himself  for  mercy  in  those 
well  known  beautiful  lines: 

"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained, 

It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 

Upon  the  place  beneath.     It  is  twice  blest, 

It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes. 

'  Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest,  it  becomes 

The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown. 

His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 

The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 

Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings; 

But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway, 

It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 

It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself  , 

And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 

When  mercy  seasons  justice.     This  consider 

That  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 

Should  see  salvation;  we  do  pray  for  mercy, 

And  that  same  prayer,  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 

The  deeds  of  mercy,  for  therein  doth  lie 

Most  of  our  duties  and  their  dignities." 

Bacon's  invocation  to  the  Muse  to  render  in  poetic  lines 
the  vivid  words  of  Admiral  Howard,  Vice- Admiral  Drake  and 
Captain  Palmer,  with  such  portions  of  the  battle  and  storm  as 
were  witnessed  by  Bacon  himself,  while  repetitious,  are  beautifully 
told.  Some  of  the  language  of  Howard  was  too  prosaic  for  the 
Muse,  and  a  portion  of  his  account  is  told  in  prose.  The  brave 


words  of  the  prisoner,  Don  Martin,  when  presented  to  the  Queen 
by  Captain  Palmer,  exhibits  the  true  soldier,  whose  allegience  to 
the  King  and  mother  Church,  was  superior  to  life. 

In  the  decipherings  thus  far  made,  the  subject  matter  of  the 
vj     hidden  stories  ^retwjc^OTjhjic^dd.  seemingly  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  their  being  losf  through   the   suppression  of  any 
portion  of  the  publications  by  the  Queen,  a  not  infrequent  occur- 
rence in  those  days. 

A       The   principal  key-words  in    this    story    are:     Ocean,    Sea, 
Vessel,  Carract,  Galley,  Storm,  Tempest,  Armado,   Spain.     The 
I   passages  about  these  words  when  rightly  brought  together  form 
/  the  connected   narrative.     No  worjL^^s^d^^ot,ibun4^in_t3ie^ 
^original  text.     Each  word  or  passage^once~tisea  is   eliminated, 
and  never  used  again. 

The  poem  was  first  written  and  afterwards  "decomposed 
and  composed  again,"  by  Bacon,  as  the  passages  appear  in  the 
1623  Edition  of  the  Plays  and  other  works  through  which  the 
cipher  is  found  to  run. 

When  deciphered  and  replaced  in  their  original  form,  they 
mean  something,  which  they  do  not  in  the  Plays. 

The  following  quotations  will  illustrate  this.  Some  extracts 
are  given  at  length,  to  show  the  irrelevance  and  senseless  jargon 
in  the  context,  in  the  1623  Edition  of  the  Plays,  and  by  contrast 
the  smoothness,  coherency,  strength  and  fitness  in  the  Armada. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  II.,  Scene  2: 

"  Boy,  go  along  with  this  woman,  this  news  distracts  me. 
' '  This  Puncke  is  one  of  Cupid's  carriers, 
Clap  on  more  sailes,  pursue:  up  with  your  sights 
Give  fire:    she  is  my  prize,  or  ocean  whelm  them  all." 
"  Saist  thou  so  (old  Jack)  go  thy  waies:" 

Spanish  Armada,  Book  II.,  Page  338: 

"  In  spirit  like  to  each,  was  this  bold  Drake. 

Quote  he.  '  I  will  her  chase  the  whole  world  through 

Till  that  I  her  o'ertake  and  her  subdue. 

Clap  on  more  sailes  !     Up  with  your  sights  !    Pursue 

Give  fire!     She's  my  prize  or  Ocean  whelm  them  all.' 

Thus  he  the  conquest  ruthlessly  pursued." 

—Bacon's  Account  of  Drake's  Fight 

Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  I.,  Scene  2: 

(Enter  a  Constable  with  Costard  with  a  letter,} 

Con.        Which  is  the  Duke's  owne  person. 

Ber.       This  fellow,  what  wouldst? 

Con.        I  myselfe  reprehend  his  owne  person,    for  I  am  his  graces 

tharborough:     But  I  would  see  his  own  person  in  flesh  and 

blood. 

Ber.       This  is  he. 
Con.        Signeor  Arme,  Arme  commend  you:     Ther's  villanie   abroad, 

this  letter  will  tell  you  more. 

Clow.     Sir  the  Contempts  thereof  are  as  touching  mee. 
Per.         A  letter  from  the  magnificent  Armado. 
Ber.        How  low  soever  the  matter,  I  hope  in  God  for  high  words. 


Lon.       A  high  hope  for  a  low  heaven,  God  grant  us  patience. 

Ber.       To  heare,  or  forbeare  hearing. 

Lon.  To  heare  meekly  sir,  and  to  laugh  moderately,  or  to  forbeare 
both. 

Ber.  Well  sir,  be  it  as  the  stile  shall  give  us  cause  to  clime  in  the 
mernnesse. 

Clo.  The  matter  is  to  me  sir,  as  concerning  Jaquenetta.  The  man- 
ner of  it  is,  I  was  taken  with  the  manner. 

Ber.       In  what  manner  ? 

Clo.  In  manner  and  form  following  sir  all  those  three.  I  was  scene 
with  her  in  the  Manner  house,  sitting  with  her  upon  the 
Forme,  and  taken  following  her  into  the  Park:  which  put 
together,  is  in  manner  and  forme  following.  Now  sir  for 
the  manner;  It  is  the  manner  of  a  man  to  speake  to  a 
woman,  for  the  forme  in  some  forme. 

Ber.       For  the  following  sir. 

Clo.        As  it  shall  follow  in  my  correction,  and  God  defend  the  right. 

Fer.        Will  you  hear  this  letter  with  attention  ? 

Ber.       As  we  would  heare  an  Oracle. 

Clo.        Such  is  the  simplicitie  of  man  to  harken  after  the  flesh. 

Ferd.  Great  Deputie,  the  Welkins  Vicegerent,  and  sole  dominator 
of  Navar,  my  soules  earths  God,  and  bodies  fostring 
patrone: 

Cost.       Not  a  word  of  Costard  yet. 

Ferd.     So  it  is. 

Cost.       It  may  be  so:  but  if  he  say  it  is  so,  he  is  in  telling  true:  but  so. 

Ferd.     Peace, 

Clow.      Be  to  me,  and  every  man  that  dares  not  fight. 

Ferd.      No  words, 

Clow.     Of  other  mens  secrets  I  beseech  you. 

Ferd.  So  it  is  besieged  with  sable  coloured  melancholic,  I  did  com- 
mend the  black  oppressing  humor  to  the  most  wholesome 
Physicke  of  thy  health-giving  ayre:  And  as  I  am  a  Gen- 
tleman, betooke  my  selfe  to  walke:  the  time  When?  about 
the  sixt  houre,  When  beasts  most  grase,  birds  best  pecke, 
and  men  sit  downe  to  that  nourishment  which  is  called 
supper:  So  much  for  the  time  When.  Now  for  the  ground 
Which  ?  which  I  mean  I  walkt  upon,  it  is  ycliped,  Thy 
Parke.  Then  for  the  place  Where  ?  where  I  mean  /  did 
encounter  that  obscene  and  most  preposterous  event  that 
draweth  from  my  snow-white  pen  the  ebon  coloured  Ink, 
which  heere  thou  viewest,  beholdest,  survayest,  or  seest. 
But  to  the  place  Where?  It  standeth  North  Northeast 
and  by  East  from  the  West  corner  of  thy  curious 
knotted  garden;  There  did  I  see  that  low  spirited  Swaine, 
that  base  Minow  of  thy  myrth  (Clown,  Mee?),  that  unlet- 
tered small  knowing  soule  (Clow  Me?),  that  shallow 
vassall  (Clow,  Still  mee?)  which  as  I  remember  hight 
Costard  (Clow.  O  me)  sorted  and  consorted  contrary  to 
thy  established  proclaymed  Edict  and  Continet,  Cannon: 
Which  with,  o'  with,  but  with  this  I  passion  to  say  where- 
with: 

Clo.        With  a  Wench. 

Ferd.  With  a  childe  of  our  Grandmother  Eve,  a  female;  or  for  thy 
more  sweet  understanding  a  woman:  him.  I  (as  my  ever 
esteemed  dutie  prickes  me  on)  have  sent  to  thee,  to  receive 
the  meed  of  punishment  by  thy  sweet  Graces  Officer 
Anthony  Dull,  a  man  of  good  repute,  carriage,  bearing,  & 
estimation. 

Anth.     Me,  an't  shall  please  you?     I  am  Anthony  Dull. 


Ferd.  For  Jaguenetta  (so  is  the  "weaker  vessel  called}  which  I 
apprehended  with  the  aforesaid  Swaine,  I  keeper  her  as 
a  vessel  of  thy  Laws  furie,  and  shall  at  the  least  of  thy 
sweet  notice,  bring  her  to  triall.  J*hine  in  all  comple- 
ments of  devoted  and  heart-burning  heat  of  duttee. 

DON  ADRIANA  DE  ARMADO. 

Spanish  Armada,  Book  II.,  Page  322. 

"  '  LATER:  About  the  sixth  hour  I  did  encounter  a  gentleman  who  said 
he  had  seen  the  Armada,  and  counted  a  hundred  and  seven  galleys. 
I  cried:  "  Where?  When?  From  what  place?"  "  On  the  cliffs,''  said 
he.  I  betook  myself  there,  and  from  where  I  stood  I  saw  the 
Armada  Their  weaker  vessels,  the  carracts,  come  first  and  the 
whole  Armada,  from  a  hundred  forty  to  two  hundred  saile,  standeth 
North-North-East  and  by  East  from  the  West,  the  whole  fleet  bear- 
ing up  the  coast.  I  did  also  see  the  faithful  slave  ship,  which  had 
wandered  forth  in  care  to  seek  me  out  news,  running  from  a 
vessel  of  the  enemy.  The  Centaur  is  laid  up  safe  at  the  Mart.  I 
have  thirty  saile,  and  I  shall  bring  them  to  trial  to-night,  if  the 
wind  blow  any  way  from  shore. 

'"We  shall  not  get  away  till  midnight,  but  I  will  not  harbour  in  this 
town  to-night. 

Thine  in  all  complement  of  devoted  duty, 

HOWARD. 
(Dispatch  to  the   Queene). 

Spanish  Armada,  Book  III.,  page  442: 

' '  '  News  do  I  bring  of  a  rich  laden  vessel 
Of  merchandise  wreck'd  on  the  narrow  seas. 
Which  I  did  apprehend  as  soon  as  seen.' 

"  '  Is  it  not  strange  thou  couldst  put  out  to  sea 
So  quickly,  and  the  Spanish  vessel  seize  ? ' 

"  Celerity  is  never  more  admir'd 
Than  by  the  negligent,  'tis  often  said.' 

"  A  good  rebuke,  which  well  might  have  becom'd 
The  best  of  men  to  taunt  at  slackness.' 

"  '  The  Jacquenetta  is  the  vessel  call'd, 
A  bark  rich  laden,  gloriously  array'd, 
In  goodly  colors  which  I  chanc'd  to  see 
Ploughing  the  deep,  to  the  low  countries  bound, 
Laden  with  jewels  and  with  precious  ore — 
Treasure  oft  from  the  Spanish  Islands  brought — 
In  Neptune's  glassy  field  still  toss'd  with  violence.' 

Henry  IV.,  Part  I.,  Act  II.,  Scene  4: 

"  Shall  the  blessed  Son  of  Heaven  prove  a  Micher, 
And  eate  blackberries  ?    A  question  not  to  be  askt. 
Shall  the  son  of  England  prove  a  thief,  and  take  purses  ? 
A  question  to  be  askt.'' 

Spanish  Armada,  Page  443: 

"  If  you  will  aid  me  in  this  enterprise 
I  have  resolv'd  the  treasure  to  divide.'' 

"  Do  it  not,  detain  no  jot,  I  charge  thee. 
Shall  any  son  of  England  prove  a  thief .' 
His  sisters  slander  and  his  mothers  shame, 
Ere  be  the  share  of  him  who  could  such  ill  contrive.'' 

— Bacon  to  Anthony. 


Tempest,  Act  III.,  Scene  3: 

• '  Art  thou  afeard  ? 

"  No  monster,  not  I. 

"  Be  not  afeard  the  Isle  is  full  of  noise." 

Spanish  Armada,  page  445: 

"  We  will  be  still  till  that  we  do  discover 

Where  the  place  is  whence  these  sounds  do  put  forth. 

Be  not  afear'd,  the  Isle  is  full  of  noise." 

— Anthony  to  Bacon. 

Othello,  Act  II,  Scene  i: 

(Enter  Desdetnona,  lago,  Roderigo,  and  sEmelia.) 
"Oh  behold. 

The  riches  of  the  ship  is  come  on  shore: 
You  men  of  Cyprus,  let  her  have  your  knees.1' 
Hail  to  thee  Ladie;  and  the  grace  of  Heaven, 
Before,  behind  thee.  and  on  every  hand 
Enwheel  thee  round." 

Spanish  Armada,   page  448: 

"  I  find  the  riches  of  the  ship  have  come  on  shore, 
Yet  in  a  night  the  best  part  was  remov'd, 
Unwarily  devoured  by  the  floods, 
And  those  aboard  full  hardly  have  escaped. " 

— Bacon  on  the  chalky  cliffs. 

Love's  Labours  Lost,  Act  III.,  Scene  i: 

Enter.    Broggart  and  Boy. 
(Song.) 

Bra.       Warble  childe,  make  passionate  my  sense  of  hearing. 

Boy.       Concolinel. 

Brag.  Sweete  Aver,  go  tendernesse  of  yeares:  take  this  Key,  give 
enlargement  to  the  swaine,  bring  him  festinatly  hither:  I 
must  imploy  him  in  a  letter  to  my  Love. 

Boy.        Will  you  win  your  love  with  a  French  braule?. 

Bra.       How  meanest  thou,  brauling  in  French? 

Boy.  No  my  compleat  master,  but  to  Jigge  off  a  tune  at  the  tongues 
end.  canarie  to  it  with  the  feete,  humour  it  with  turning  up 
your  eie:  sigh  a  note  and  sing  a  note,  sometime  through 
the  throate:  if  you  swallowed  love  with  singing,  love  some- 
time through:  nose  as  if  you  snuft  up  love  by  smelling  love 
with  your  hat  penthouselikeore  the  shop  of  your  eies.  with 
your  armes  crost  on  your  thinbellie  doublet,  like  a  Rabbet 
on  a  spit,  or  your  hands  in  your  pocket,  like  a  man  after 
the  old  painting,  and  keepe  not  too  long  in  one  tune,  but  a 
snip  and  away:  these  are  complements,  these  are  humours, 
these  betraie  nice  wenches  that  would  be  betraied  without 
these,  and  make  them  men  of  note:  do  you  note  men  that 
most  are  affected  to  these? 

Brag.    How  hast  thou  purchased  this  experience? 

Boy.       By  my  pen  of  observation. 

Brag.    But  O,  but  O. 

Boy.       The  Hobbie-horse  is  forgot. 

Bra.      Cal'st  thou  my  love  Hobbie-horse. 

Boy.  No  Master,  the  Hobbie-horse  is  but  a  Colt,  and  your  Love 
perhaps,  a  Hackme: 


Spanish  Armada,  Book  III.,  page  469: 

"  '  But  mighty  is  the  truth  and  will  prevail; 
So  far  as  doth  the  daughter  of  the  Day 
All  other  lesser  lights,  in  light  excel, 
So  far  doth  she,  plac'd  in  the  firmament, 
Through  the  bright  heaven  her  beauteous  beams  display. 
Much  more  there  is  unkenn'd  than  thou  dost  con, 
And  from  men's  knowledge  lurk  much  more  than's  known.' 
'"How  hast  thou  purchas'd  this  experience 
And  grace  of  speech  as  well,  in  such  short  time?' 
"  '  How?    By  my  pen  of  observation,  Madam. 
,    Substance  of  matter  better  is,  by  far, 
Than  beauty  fair  of  words;  contrariwise 
Much  worse  is  matter  vain,  than  are  vain  words. 

—Bacon  before  the  Queen. 

Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  I.,  Last  Scene: 

"  My  mistress  and  her  sister  staies  for  you. 

"  Now  as  I  am  a  Christian  answer  me, 

In  what  safe  place  you  have  bestow'd  my  monie; 

Or  I  shall  break  that  merry  sconce  of  yours 

That  stands  on  tricks,  when  I  am  undispos'd; 

Where  is  the  thousand  marks  thou  hadst  of  me  ? " 

Armada,  page  558: 

"In  rage  she  cried,  '  Thy  words  uncourteous  are: 
What!  wilt  thou  flout  me  thus  unto  my  lace? 
I'll  break  that  merry  sconce  of  thine, 
That  stands  on  tricks  when  I  am  undispos'd. 
I  tread  in  dust  thee  and  thy  monie  both, 
That  were  it  not  for  shame,' — 

—  The  Queen  to  Bacon. 
King  John,  Act  III.,  Scene  3: 

(Enter.     France,  Dolphin,  Pandulpho,  Attendants.} 

"  So  by  a  roaring  Tempest  on  the  flood, 
A  whole  Armado  of  convicted  sail 
Is  scattered  and  disjoyn'd  from  fellowship. 
Courage  and  comfort,  all  shall  yet  goe  well. " 

Spanish  Armada,  Book  III.,  page  565: 

"  My  lords,  attend!    This  postcript  you  shall  hear: 

So  by  a  roaring  Tempest  on  the  flood 

A  whole  armado  of  convicted  sail 

Is  scatter'd  and  disjoyn'd  from  fellowship.' 

—  7 'he  Queen  to  her  Lords,  (End  of  the  Armada.) 

Following  the  Spanish  Armada  is  Bacon's  account  of  his  trip 
to  France,  and  his  introduction  to  the  French  Court,  giving 
details  of  the  scenes  so  new  to  him,  and  illustrating  the  character 
of  the  Court  by  its  pomp  and  conversation. 

This  visit  to  France  forms  the  ground  work  of  parts  I.,  II. 
and  III.,  of  the  Play  of  Henry  VI.,  the  scenes  of  which  are  laid 
in  the  portions  of  France  visited  by  Bacon  between  the  years 
1575-76  and  1579.  During  this  time  Bacon  collected  the  material, 
then  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  people,  for  the  "Massacre  of 
Paris"  (St.  Bartholomew),  attributed  to  Marlowe.  This  Play, 


however,  does  not  contain  all  the  account,  and  the  Cipher  collects 
the  missing  portions  from  the  Shakespearian  Plays  and  Bacon's 
other  works  (for  the  story  runs  through  them  all),  which,  when 
all  brought  together,  form  a  continuous  history  of  that  dreadful 
period,  and  what  led  to  the  outbreak. 

The  question  whv_j3acon  incorporated  the  Spanish  Armada  in 
cipher  is  answered  engage" 22,  of  Vol.  I., "of  the  Cipher  Story. 

"Our  design  is  frankly  and  without  circumlocution  to  write 
and  to  publish  a  clear  and  formal  history  of  our  time." 

The  great  sea-fight  of  1588  was  one  of  the  events  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign  and  could  not  be  left  out  of  the  history.  Had  it 
been  published  then  it  would  have  called  attention  to  other  and 
more  dangerous  narratives  which  the  Cipher  concealed.  When- 
ever Bacon  could  do  so,  he  wrote  blocks  of  History  into  separate 
plays,  but  with  portions  of  the  secret  parts  distributed  in  other 
places.  Witness  the  "  Massacre  of  Paris."  This  play  has  for  its 
theme  the  poisoning  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  the  marriage  of 
Henry  and  Margaret,  the  murder  of  Admiral  Coligny,  the 
massacre  of  Saint  Bartholomew,  the  death  of  Charles  IX.,  the 
stabbing  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  his  brother,  Cardinal  Lorrain, 
and  the  assassination  of  Henry  III.,  embracing  a  period  in  French 
history  of  about  eighteen  years.  The  incomplete  history  outlined 
in  this  play,  is  completed  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  King 
John,  Henry  V.,  Henry  VI.,  parts  I.,  II.  and  III.,  Henry  VIII., 
Hamlet,  Cymbeline,  The  Advancement  of  Learning,  History  of 
Henry  VII.,  James  IV.,  of  Scotland,  and  the  Faerie-Queene. 
The  beheading  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots  is  found  in  the  plays  and 
works  mentioned,  with  the  addition  of  extracts  from  the  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy,  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  Orlando  Furioso, 
Edward  I.,  and  Edward  II.  The  Massacre  of  Saint  Bartholomew 
and  the  beheading  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots  related  in  Bacon's 
peculiar  style  will  appear  in  Book  IV. 

The  results  obtained  broaden  as  the  decipherings  progress, 
and  amazement  follows  the  translations.  Is  it  possible  that  the 
six  hundred  pages  so  far  published  can  be  the  product  of  any 
brain  now  on  earth  ?  Is  it  possible  that  a  continuous  history  of 
the  events  of  three  hundred  years  ago,  could  be  concocted  or 
compiled  from  the  books  used,  if  not  incorporated  in  them  ?  The 
current  of  events  is  easily  traced  through  them  all,  but  could  the 
account  have  been  deciphered  as  it  now  appears,  unless  placed 
there  by  rule  for  the  purpose  ? 

ORVILLE  W.  OWEN. 
JUNE,  1894. 


BOOK  III. 

Spanisf?  Clrmaba. 

(CONTINUED.) 


"  I  begg'd  to  hear  the  story  of  our  wrack, 
And  of  our  rescue  from  a  watery  grave. 
A  garrulous  old  salt  did  tell  the  tale, 
And  swerv'd  not  from  the  smallest  article 
In  time,  matter,  or  other  circumstance. 
Said  he:     'Our  vessel  is  th'  Adam  and  Eve, 
"Not  of  the  regular  navy,  but  well-armed 
Nevertheless,  and  well  supplied.     That's  more 
Than  can  be  said  of  the  Queen's  ships,  alack ! 
"We've  some  great  guns,  field-pieces  and  bombards, 
Whole  barrels  of  gunpowder,  my  lord. 
When  on  a  sudden  those  bold  Spaniards  hear 
A  shower  of  stones  pelting  upon  their  decks, 
They'll  find  all  the  foul  fiends  of  hell  let  loose, 
And  none  can  possibly  escape  alive.' 

" '  But  the  story,  my  man ;  how  came  we  aboard  ? ' 
"'By  divine  providence,  I  doubt  it  not. 
Our  vessel,  by  the  tempest  driven,  was  borne 
Some  leagues  to  sea,  but  on  the  second  morn 
We  did  descry  a  speck  upon  the  waves, 


402  The  Spanish  Armada. 

The  which  the  master  did  make  out  to  be 
A  boat  too  small  for  such  rough  seas,  or  thus 
To  venture  such  a  distance  from  the  shore. 
It  proved  a  rotten  carcass  of  a  butt, 
Not  rigg'd ;  nor  tackle,  sail,  nor  mast  it  had. 
I'truth,  it  was  but  meat  for  worms,  th'  rats 
Instinctively  had  left  it.' 

"  <  That  is  true. 

I  recollect  it  was  not  sea-worthy. 
'Twas  all  that  I  could  find  at  hand, 
When  that  the  wrack  of  that  so  goodly  ship 
Did  cast  the  helpless  wretches  on  the  waves. 
Yon  Spaniard  is  my  prize.     I  sav'd  him  once. 
But  when  again  we  were  thrown  overboard, 
N"e  he  nor  I  could  one  another  aid. 
I  set  my  voice  to  brawling  for  the  ship — 
If  that  my  feeble  cry  can  brawl  be  termed — 
Did  not  the  general  ear  take  hold  on  me  ? 
Did  not  you  spy  us  where  we  couched  were?  ' 

" '  We  saw  you,  aye,  for  we,  alack,  alack, 
Bore  down  upon  you,  quite  against  our  will, 
And  cut  your  helpless  vessel  clean  in  twain. 
You  floated  as  one  *  reft  of  life,  but  he, 
The  lusty  Spaniard,  was  far  otherwise. 
I  saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him, 
And  ride  upon  their  backs;  he  trod  the  water, 
Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 
The  surge  most  swolne  that  met  him ;  his  bold  head 
'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oar'd 
Himself,  with  his  good  arms  in  lofty  stroke, 
To  th'  ship,  where  prompt  a  rope  was  low'red, 
And  stout  hands  above  stoop'd  to  relieve  him 


The  Spanish  Armada.  403 

Prom  the  rude  sea's  enrag'd  and  foamy  mouth. 

With  mine  own  hands,  did  I  redeem  you,  sir, 

And  give  you  life,  though  you  did  seem  a  wreck  past  hope.' 

"  The  tale  of  our  sea  sorrow  done, 
I  did  him  thank  with  poverty  of  words 
That  speaks  th'  heaviest  debt.     He  said  no  more. 

"Our  morning  now  was  somewhat  worn,  and  I, 
Restor'd  to  something  of  my  former  strength, 
Gan  walk  upon  the  deck,  and  did  approach 
More  near  to  the  Spaniard,  kindly  intent, 
And  did  address  him  in  the  Spanish  tongue : — 

" '  Good  morrow  sir,  we  are  not  far  from  land.' 

"  *  Pardon  I  crave,  but  that  gives  me  no  joy. 
They'll  bear  me  to  the  English  shore,  and  there 
I  soon  shall  rest,  and  have  my  epitaph 
Writ  in  as  many  several  languages, 
As  I  have  conquered  kingdoms  with  my  sword.' 

"  '  Who  art  thou  ?     Say,  that  I  may  honor  thee.' 

•"  Sir  what  art  thou,  indeed,  that  questionest  thus?' 

"'  Men  call  me  Bacon.' 

" '  Lordly  dost  thou  look, 
As  if  thou  wert  learned ;  thy  countenance, 
As  science  there  held  seat.' 

"'But  thou?' 

"  <  Forbear, 
I  pray,  to  question  me,  I'll  answer  not.' 

"  '  Follow  your  pleasure.' 

"  '  Far  be  it  from  me 
To  take  exceptions  'yond  my  privilege." 

"  '  Yet  give  me  leave  to  speak.     We  much  affect 
Our  country  as  our  parents.     You're  from  Spain.' 

" '  Peace,  peace,  my  lord,  forbear.     You  are  forsworn 


404  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Not  to  despise  me.     Narrow  'scape  from  death 
Doth  make  wise  things  seem  foolish  and  rich  things 
But  poor.     Conscience,  that  will  not  die  in  debt, 
Thus  proves  you  wise  and  rich,  for  in  my  eye, 
I  am  a  fool  and  full  of  poverty.' 

"'Your  wits  make  wise  things  foolish.     When  we 

greet 

With  eyes  best  seeing  by  the  light  of  day, 
We  lose  the  light  of  heaven.     But  let  that  pass. 
You  are  a  soldier,  if  I  mistake  not. 
A  man  of  travel  that  hath  seen  the  world ; 
Have  served  thy  king,  some  special  honours  won, 
No  doubt.     Recount,  I  pray,  all't  pleaseth  thee.' 

"Til  not  reject  your  challenge,  most  fair  lord. 
'Tis  true  that,  more  than  all  the  world,  my  heart 

Our  royal  monarch  honours.     When  mine  oath 

i 

Most  honourably  to  uphold  his  cause,  I  break, 
Out  of  his  realm,  may  I  with  shame  be  cast, 
In  desolation  live  un visited,  unseen. 
Ne'er  did  I  stand  in  fear  of  death, 
Nor  ever  shun  the  field,  for  fear  of  wounds. 
View  me,  the  man  that  oft  hath  conquer'd  kings, 
And  by  the  wars  lost  not  a  drop  of  blood ; 
And  yet  I've  lanc'd  my  flesh  to  teach  my  men 
A  wound  is  nothing,  be  it  ne'er  so  deep. 
Blood  is  the  god  of  war's  rich  livery; 
Now  look  I  like  a  soldier  with  this  scar. 
Oft  have  I  seen  my  horsemen  charge  the  foe 
Shot  through  the  arms,  cut  overthwart  the  hands, 
Dyeing  their  weapons  with  their  streaming  blood; 
And  yet,  at  night,  carouse  within  my  tent, 
Filling  their  empty  veins  with  airy  wine, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  405 

That  being  concocted  turns  to  crimson  blood. 

Whose  head,  has  deepest  scars,  whose  breast  most  wounds, 

Is  honour'd  most.     Such  men,  my  gracious  lord, 

Follow  my  standard  and  my  thundering  drums.' 
"  He  as  if  wroth,  sends  lightning  from  his  eyes, 

And,  in  the  furrows  of  his  frowning  brows, 

Harbours  revenge,  cruelty,  war  and  death. 

'"Thou  mind'st  me  of  the  conqueror,  whom  men 

Do  call  the  scourge  and  terror  of  the  world.' 

"'Why  may  not  I,  my  lord,  as  well  as  he, 
Be  term'd  the  scourge  and  terror  of  the  world?' 

"'Shall  speech  of  war  suffice?    It  shall  be  shown, 
By  plain  and  easy  demonstration, 
If  thou  hast  power  enow  to  win  the  world.' 

"<  Sir,  I  will  not  attempt  to  paint  in  words, 
What  I'll  perform  in  deeds,  or  have  perform'd. 
Of  all  the  provinces  I  have  subdued, 
I  should  not  have  a  foot  unless  I  bore 
A  mind  courageous  and  invincible. 
The  tatter'd  ensign  of  my  ancestors, 
Did  sweep  the  desert  shores  of  the  Dead  Sea; 
Their  swords  and  shields  there  won  immortal  fame. 
With  these  same  weapons,  did  I  go  in  quest 
Of  glory  and  honour  in  the  western  world. 
There  I've  a  country  void  of  fears, 
A  warlike  people  to  maintain  my  right, 
Whose  army  shall  discomfort  all  my  foes, 
And  speedily  shall  put  them  to  the  sword. 
I  hazarded  the  loss  of  all  I  lov'd 
And  sail'd  the  frozen  Arctic  seas; 
Long  was  my  ship  to  northward  borne, 
Where  Phoebus'  fire  scarce  thaws  the  ysicles ; 


406  The  Spanish  Armada. 

In  peril  dire  of  waters,  winds,  and  rocks; 

Oppress' d  with  sickness;   through  the   rage   of  stormy 

blasts, 

And  cold,  like  death,  my  course  did  I  pursue, 
Not  knowing  in  what  place  anchor  I'd  cast. 
"Who  fares  at  sea  may  not  command  his  way, 
Ne  wind  ne  weather  at  his  pleasure  call ; 
The  sea  is  wide,  and  easy  for  to  stray ; 
The  wind  unstable  and  doth  never  stay. 
Again  I've  sailed  the  Mediterranean  vast. 
Where  rolling  waves  do  one  beget  another; 
I've  roam'd  clean  through  the  bounds  of  Asia  far; 
Five  summers  have  I  spent  in  farthest  Greece, 
In  which  I  was  their  woes  for  to  redress, 
And  ever  my  chief  care  'twas  to  assuage, 
The  rancorous  rigour  of  the  tyrant's  might. 
I  go  as  whirlwinds  rage  before  a  storm, 
And  none  might  seek  to  cross  me  in  an  enterprise 
That  e'er  I  undertook  for  weal  of  Spain.' 

"'This  shall  prove  woe  of  Spain,  thou  proud  ingrate, 
And  Drake  shall  chase  ye  all  from  England's  gate, 
Bid  thee  thy  threat'ning  colours  to  wind  up, 
And  tame  the  savage  spirit  of  wild  strife. 
Your  breaths  first  kindled  the  dead  coal  of  war, 
Between  this  goodly  kingdom  and  thine  own, 
And  brought  in  matter  that  should  feed  this  fire, 
Till  now  too  huge  'tis  grown  to  be  blown  out 
With  that  same  weak  wind  which  enkindled  it.' 

"'England  stood  out  against  the  Holy  Church, 
Nor  yet  hath  reconcil'd  herself  to  Rome, 
Which  gives  us  warrant  from  the  hand  of  Heaven, 
And  on  our  actions  sets  the  name  of  right, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  407 

With  holy  breath.     She  taught  me  how  to  know 
The  face  of  Right — acquainted  me  indeed 
With  interest  to  this  land;  into  my  heart 
Did  thrust  thirst  for  this  holy  enterprise, 
Before  I  drew  my  gallant  head  of  war, 
And  cull'd  these  fiery  spirits  from  the  world, 
That  knit  their  sinews  to  the  strength  of  mine.' 

"'  The  Cardinals  perchance  can  make  thy  peace, 
Or  to  thy  Philip  'hap  a  plaster  send, 
To  heal  th'  inveterate  canker  of  one  wound, 
By  making  many.     Come,  come,  thou  shalt  thrust 
Thy  hand  as  deep  into  the  purse  of  pride, 
And  rich  prosperity,  as  any  king 
As  yet  hath  done,  in  the  world's  history. 
The  prodigal  gifts  thy  king  bestows  on  Rome, 
Whose  idle  triumph  masks  lascivious  shows, 
Shall  draw  thy  treasury  dry,  and  make  thee  weak.' 

•' '  These  idle  words  do  ill  beseem  thy  years,  my  lord.' 

"'I  cannot  brook  that  Philip  doth  in  words 
Make  show  of  amity,  and  in  his  ships, 
Thus  soon  his  rancorous  mind  to  us  displays.' 

"'Thou  knowest  well  we  sent  ambassadors 
To  treat  of  friendly  peace  or  deadly  war. 
We  said  unto  thy  Queen :  '  Take  which  thou  wilt.' 
Her  tongue  did  lash  us  with  defiant  scorn. 
War  shalt  thcu  have,  e'en  as  our  legates  promis'd  thee. 
We'll  make  fair  England,  mounted  on  her  bull, 
Trapp'd  with  the  wealth  and  riches  of  the  world, 
Alight  and  wear  a  woful,  mourning  weed. 
The  narrow  German  Main,  where  the  Thames  falls, 
Shall,  by  the  battle,  be  the  bloody  sea. 
The  wandering  sailors  of  proud  Italy, 


408  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Shall  meet  these  English,  fleeting  with  the  tide, 
Beating  in  heaps  against  the  argosies.' 

"  *  Hast  thou  not  heard,  bold  sir,  that  this  our  Queen 
Carries  the  fearful  thunderbolts  of  Jove? 
How  canst  thou  think   of  this,  and  oft'er  war? 
England  hath  sent  thousands  of  armed  men, 
To  intercept  this  haughty  enterprise, 
And  save  her  sacred  person  free  from  scathe, 
And  dangerous  chances  of  the  wrathful  war.' 

"*  Think  you  we  would  retire  and  quake  for  fear, 
E'en  if  infernal,  or  eternal  Jove, 
Meaning  to  aid  you  in  these  English  arms, 
Should  pierce  the  black  circumference  of  hell,^ 
With  millions  of  strong  tormenting  spirits, 
And  ugly  Juries  bearingjiery  jlags, 
And,  with  the  thunder  of  his  martial  tools, 
Make  earthquakes  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  heaven  ? ' 

" 1 0  fig  me,  thou  bragging  Spaniard !     Thou  roarest 
Like  the  sea,  or  like  the  trumpet's  clanging  sound.' 

"'If  thy  Queen's  chair  were  in  a  sea  of  blood, 
I  would  prepare  a  ship  and  sail  to  it, 
That  I  might  Philip's  rightful  title  win — 
The  title  of  proud  England's  royal  king. 
Much  honour  shall  redound  unto  the  victor's  part, 
And  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  honor, 
I  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive.' 

" '  Aye,  triple  honour  will  it  be  to  him 
That  gets  the  victory.     Heaven  send  it  be 
Not  thee,  nor  Philip.' 

" '  This  is  plain  speaking. 
The  king's  cause  being  just, 
And  his  quarrel  honourable — ' 


The  Spanish  Armada.  409 

"•  Pardon.     That's  more  than  we  know. 
Granted  he  wish'd  to  overthrow  the  Queen, 
Whose  crown  and  scepter  both  he  wanted. 
With  extorted  power  and  borrow'd  strength, 
In  one  part  or  another,  Spain  has  had, 
By  th'  space  of  many  years,  a  veteran  array 
To  war  'gainst  bordering  enemies;  and  now 
He  thinks,  as  may  be  plainly  seen,  to  be 
The  master  of  the  sea.' 

"'And  so  he  will. 

What  can  your  puny  vessels  do,  in  fair 
And  open  fight  'gainst  such  as  ours? 
Ours  is  a  navy,  strong  as  well  as  great, 
Invincible,  as  England's  Queen  shall  see.' 

"'  You  think,  perchance,  to  take  our  island  home 
In  your  pocket,  and  give  it  to  your  eon 
For  an  apple.' 

"'Aye,  and  sow  the  kernels  o't 
I'  th'  sea,  to  bring  forth  more  islands.' 

"'That  is  well  said  and  in  good  time. 
But  our  small  ships,  that  lightly,  like  a  bird, 
Do  skim  the  water,  will  sad  havoc  make 
Of  Philip's  mighty  fleet.     The  end's  not  yet.' 

"At  that  moment  the  captain  did  draw  near, 
To  whom  I  said  in  our  own  tongue:  'This,  Sir, 
Is  the  man  whom  I  did  rescue  from  the  wrack.' 

" '  That  face  of  his  I  do  remember  well, 
Yet,  when  I  saw  it  last,  it  was  besmear'd 
As  black  as  Vulcan,  in  the  smoke  of  war: 
A  bawbling  vessel  was  he  captain  of, 
For  shallow  draft  and  bulk  unprizable,    . 
With  which,  such  faithful  grapple  did  he  make, 


410  The  Spanish  Armada. 

"With  the  most  noble  bottom  of  our  fleet, 
That  very  envy  and  the  tongue  of  loss 
Cried  fame  and  honour  on  him.' 

" '  He  is  brave, 

Of  that  I  am  most  sure.     Me  hath  he  told 
Of  doubty  deeds  full  many,  that  argue 
Neither  a  want  of  courage  nor  of  wit. 
A  braggadocio  is  he,  too,  a  braggart, 
Fill'd  with  vain  pride  and  most  disdainful  spite. 
Should  you  but  hear  his  boasts  i'  Philip's  name, 
You'd  think  his  guns  could  break  the  frame  of  heaven, 
Batter  the  shining  palace  of  the  sun, 
And  shiver  all  the  starry  firmament.' 

"'What  wilt  thou  do  with  him?     He  is  thy  man.' 

" '  I'll  take  him  to  the  Queen,  for  it  is  meet 
She  should  pass  sentence  on  him,  and  not  I. 
I  could  not  well  condemn  to  death,  the  man 
I  have  myself  sav'd  from  a  watery  grave, 
And  'twould  dishonour  be  t'  abandon  him.' 

" '  The  port  is  not  far  distant.     We  shall  see 
The  shores  of  England  ere  the  set  of  sun.' 

"  '  Then  let  the  man  be  bound  and  brought  to  London 
I'll  go  before  and  show  unto  the  Queen 
What  'twas  that  mov'd  this  Spanish  courtier,  thus 
Against  her  beauteous  freedom  to  conspire.' 

" '  She  may  entreated  be  his  bravery 
Against  his  devilish  despite  to  weigh. 
Pindar  in  praising  Hiero,  you  wot, 
Most  elegantly  (as  is  his  wont)  doth  say 
That  he  the  tops  of  all  virtues  did  cull. 
I  hold  that  courage  and  fealty  are  two 
Of  the  virtues  that  do  crown  all  the  rest.' 


The  Spanish  Armada.  411 


'"But  his  fealty,  good  sir,  is  to  our  foes.' 
"  '  "Pis  true,  'tis  true,  I  speak  but  of  his  worth.' 
•' '  This  is  an  enemy  shows  like  a  vice.' 
" '  I  would  I  had  a  title  good  enough 
To  keep  his  good  name  company,  and  ascribe 
His  proper  virtues  to  him,  as  is  meet, 
That  from  the  rest  stand  all  aloof.' 

"'Your  praise  is  barren,  shallow  and  erroneous, 
Not  being  nourish'd  and  maintain'd  by  right. 
The  fellow  is  a  Spaniard,  that  means  boaster; 
He  must  transform  himself  into  a  shape 
Quite  different,  ere  I  can  do  him  homage. 
Though  he  displays  ability  still  greater 
Than  of  his  haughty  master  he  relates, 
His  bootless  pains  and  ill-succeeding  might, 
Do  move  me  not  at  all.' 
" '  Did  we  not  know 

Of  strange  adventures  which  abroad  did  pass, 
He  might  persuade  us  his  is  kingly  blood, 
That  by  descent  from  royal  lineage  came 
Of  ancient  kings  and  queens  that  had  of  yore 
Their  scepters  stretch'd  from  east  to  western  shore, 
And  all  the  earth  in  their  subjection  held ; 
Quarter'd  the  world,  and  o'er  green  Neptune's  back, 
Of  ships  made  cities ;  garner' d  in  the  wealth 
Of  Araby  and  lud,  and  happy  isles 
That  lie  beyond  the  sea;  and  early  won 
The  laurel  meed  of  mighty  conquerors/ 

" '  His  tales  have  more  adventure  in  them,  sir, 
Than  ever  poet  sung  in  golden  verse.' 

"'I  fain  would  see  this  meeting  with  the  Queen, 
For  he  will  live  or  die  at  her  behest. 


412  The  Spanish  Armada. 


To  serve  and  honour  her  with  faithful  mind, 

Would  be  impossible  to  him,  I  know. 

He  must  have  freedom  at  her  hands  or  death. 

You  must,  my  lord,  see  that  he  comes  off  well. 

Though  he  is  glib  enow  in  his  own  tongue, 

His  dumbness  in  ours  must  one  interpret  for  him, 

Yet  I  will  own  his  grace  speaks  his  true  standing. 

What  mental  power  his  eye  shoots  forth  !     How  big 

Imagination  moveth  in  his  lip!' 

"'Aye,  if  imagination  may  procure 
His  liberty,  if  it  hath  any  power  at  all, 
He  may,  himself,  prevail  in  his  behalf; 
And  fascination's  ever  by  the  eye.' 

" '  My  lord,  you  mock !     I  comprehend  your  wit, 
But  it  hath  taken  wings  and  bears  away 
The  body  of  your  wisdom.' 

"'Philosophy  speaketh  too  much  and  laws  too  little, 
Touching  the  matter  whereon  we  discourse. 
Is  it  the  part  of  policy,  think  you, 
To  treat  the  subject  as  it  were  referr'd 
To  th'  province  of  my  philosophy, 
And  nothing  say  touching  the  country's  good? 
'Twere  silence  strange,  indeed.' 

"'This  argument,  my  lord, 
Saith  more  for  reason  and  judgment 
Than  dignity  and  honour.     'Tis  to  be 
Reprehended.     The  framing  of  the  mind  of  youth, 
The  seasonings  to  virtues — such  as  honour 
Obedience  and  the  like — is  of  great  moment. 
Virtue  in  ambition  is  violent; 
But,  in  authority,  settled  and  calm. 
He  who  would  prove  himself  chief  among  men, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  413 

Must  rule  himself,  and  heed  how  much  the  mind 
Doth  overpass  the  body  in  desert. 

"'The  native  errors  in  the  mind  of  man, 
His  notions  and  impressions,  do  corrupt 
And  colour.     Therein  you  will  doubtless  find 
That  men  from  children  dift'er  not  at  all. 
But  still  I  do  not  think  it  matters  much 
What  abstract  notions  one  may  entertain 
Of  honour  and  the  principles  of  things. 
And,  without  doubt,  many  old  theories 
Can  be  reviv'd  and  new  ones  introduc'd 
Of  this  same  kind.     However,  to  my  mind, 
There  still  remains  something  to  be  premis'd 
To  such  a  system  of  philosophy 
And  doctrine,  ere  it  be  receiv'd,  good  sir, 
As  refutation  of  my  theories. 
Your  arguments  are  very  like  the  dust 
Upon  the  balances,  which  is  a  thing 
That  doth  appear,  and  yet  it  weigheth  not. 
The  natural  human  reason  left  to  itself, 
Doth  teach  devotion  to  our  native  land, 
And  loyalty  unto  the  sovereign  there. 
'Tis  heaven's  first  truth — a  virtue  cardinal. 
The  highest  link  in  nature's  chain  doth  bind 
Man  to  th'  Creator.     The  symbol  true  we  find 
In  the  relation  'twixt  subject  and  king.' 

" '  Thou  art  a  pattern  fair  of  eloquence 
But  still  my  mind  inclines,  as  heretofore, 
To  the  opinions  that  it  held  of  old. 
Experience  hath  my  theories  made  good, 
Advancing  virtue  and  suppressing  vice. 
Leaving,  therefore,  divine  philosophy, 


414  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Or  natural  theology  forsooth, 

Let  us  discourse  of  dinner  my  good  lord. 

Your  patience  and  your  virtue,  well  deserve  them. 

What  will  you  and  your  Spaniard  eat,  I  pray?' 

"'He  longs  to  eat  the  English. 
I  think  he  would  eat  all  that  he  might  kill.' 

" '  By  the  white  hand  of  my  lady, 
He  is  a  gallant  prince.' 

" '  Swear  by  her  foot,  she  may  tread  out  the  oath/ 

<"A  gentleman  he  is,  the  most  active  of  Spain.' 

"  *  Doing's  activity,  and  he  will  still  be  doing.' 

"'He  ne'er  did  harm  that  e'er  I  heard  of.' 

" '  Nor  will  do  none  tomorrow ;  he  will  keep 
That  good  name  still.' 

.  " '  I  know  him  to  be  valiant.' 

"'I  was  told  by  one  that  knows  him,  sir, 
Better  than  you.' 

"'What's  he?' 

" '  Marry,  he  'told  me  so  himself, 
And  said  he  cared  not  who  knew  it.' 

"'He  needs  not,  'tis  no  hidden. virtue  in  him.' 

" '  By  m'faith,  sir,  but  'tis.     'Tis  hooded  valor. 
"When  it  appears,  'twill  bate.' 

" '  III  will  never  said  loellJ 

" '  I'll  cap  that  proverb  with,  There's  flattery 
In  friendship' 

"'And  I  will  take  up  that  with, 
Give  the  devil  his  due." 

"'Well;plac't! 

There  stands  your  friend  for  the  devil: 
Have  at  the  very  eye  of  that  proverb 
With,  A  pox  of  the  devil.' 


The  Spanish  Armada.  415 


"  '  You  are  the  better  at  proverbs, 
By  how  much?    A  fool's  bolt  is  soon  shot' 

" '  You  have  shot  over.' 

" '  'Tis  not  the  first  time 
That  you  were  overshot.' 

"'No  certes,  sir.' 

"'But  you've  not  said,  my  lord,  what  you  will  take 
For  dinner  ;  flesh  of  muttons,  beefes,  or  goats; 
Which  wilt  thou  have  to  supply  thy  present  wants?' 

"  *  That  which  our  host  doth  serve.' 

"'  Your  courtesy  I  do  requite- most  graciously, 
My  lord,  adieu.' 

"'Adieu.' 

"In  thus  discoursing  we  had  drawn  •aside. 
I  now  return'd  to  my  unwilling  guest 
And  did  resume  our  speech.     Th'  unhappy  man 
Again  did  loud  lament  the  hard  mishap, 
That  to  the  sea  of  peril  and  disgrace 
Had  brought  him,  and  did  curse  the  cruel  fate 
That  had  such  thraldom  wrought.     Not  by  the  dint 
Of  dastard's  deed — that  could  be  better  met — 
But  to  be  buffeted  by  wrath  of  heaven, 
And  driven,  helpless,  like  a  swelling  tide, 
Unto  blind  anger,  given  as  a  prey, 
Did  sorely  smite  his  heart.' 

"  'And  yet,'  said  he, 

'  'Tis  better  fortune  than  I  looked  to  have. 
Ere  that  my  ship  had  left  the  coasts  of  Spain, 
I  dream'd  that  I  untowardly  should  speed  ; 
That  I  by  fortune's  froward  gale,  should  be 
Depriv'd  of  honour,  and  of  glory  robb'd. 
It  sent  a  tempest  to  my  daunted  thoughts, 


416  The  Spanish  Armada. 


And  made  my  soul  divine  her  overthrow. 
Methought  I  saw  Alphonsus,  my  dear  son, 
Plac'd  in  a  throne  all  glitt'ring  clear  with  gold, 
Bedeck'd  with  diamonds  and  precious  stones, 
Which  shin'd  so  clear  and  glist'red  all  so  bright, 
That  it  might  well  be  term'd  Hyperion's  coach. 
Above  his  head,  a  canopy  was  set, 
Not  deck'd  with  plumes,  as  other  princes  use, 
But  all  beset  with  heads  of  conquer'd  kings, 
Install'd  with  crowns,  that  made  a  gal 'ant  show, 
And  struck  a  terror  to' the  viewer's  heart; 
Under  his  feet  lay,  hov'ring  on  the  ground, 
Thousands  of  princes,  which  he,  in  his  wars, 
By  martial  might  did  conquer  and  bring  lovy; 
Some  lay  as  dead  as  either  stock  or  stone, 
Some  others  tumbled,  wounded  to  the  death  ; 
But  most  of  them,  as  to  their  sovereign  king 
Did  offer  duly  homage  unto  him. 
As  thus  I  stood,  beholding  of  this  pomp, 
Methought  Alphonsus  did  espy  me  out, 
And,  at  a  trice,  leaving  his  lofty  throne, 
Came  to  embrace  me  in  his  blessed  arms. 
The  noise  of  drums  and  sound  of  trumpet  shrill 
Did  sudden  wake  me  from  this  pleasant  dream. 
And  straight  I  knew  something  foreshown  by  this, 
That  to  our  enterprise  amiss  should  hap. 
I  prophesied  what  it  did  then  import; 
And  now  I  prove  the  piteous  pains  of  hell, 
Wherewith  it  shall  excruciate  my  soul, 
Until  that  I  slumber  eternally. 
Sorrows  are  pack'd  on  me  in  such  huge  heaps, 
Intolerable  are  the  torments  that  I  bear. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  417 

I  would  there  were  for  me  appointed  place, 
In  fearful  darkness,  furth'rest  from  the  sky, 
And  from  the  beauteous  earth,  where  I  might  lie 
'Mongst  rocks  and  caves,  in  black  obscurity, 
My  senses  drown'd  in  deep  and  senseless  wave. 
But  thou — wear  thou  the  gold  of  Barbary, 
And  glitter  like  the  Palace  of  the  Sun, 
Tn  honour  of  the  deed  which  thou  hast  done. 
To  me,  this  direful  destiny ; 
To  thee,  I  know,  renown — 
To  me,  the  blast  of  ignominy ; 
To  thee,  Dame  Honour's  crown. 
This  is  the  chance  of  fickle  Fortune's  wheel — 
A  prince  at  morn,  a  prisoner  ere  the  night; 
I,  which  erewhile,  did  'dain  for  to  possess 
The  proudest  palace  of  the  western  world, 
Am  to  a  life  condemn'd  more  hard  than  death.' 

"'It  fortunes  thus — High  God  doth  so  ordain. 
But  calm  thyself.     Some  men,  in  fortunes  great, 
Unto  themselves  are  strangers.     Sad  is  it 
For  a  man  to  die,  well  known  to  every  one, 
Still  to  himself  unknown.     He  should  discern, 
Not  only  that  which  on  the  surface  floats 
And  plays,  but  deeper  look  within  his  mind. 
A  tongue  in  venom  steep'd  'gainst  Fortune's  state, 
Can  nothing  say  that  doth  not  vengeance  kindle. 
And  man  must  learn  that  in  hyperbole 
To  speak,  in  naught  is  comely  but  in  love. 
Boasting,  indeed,  is  no  good  sign  of  truth, 
Though  it  be  oftimes  joined  with  success; 
But  loyalty's  the  loadstar  of  renown.' 

" '  I'm  very  proud,  revengeful,  and  ambitious, 


418  The  Spanish  Armada. 

With  more  offences  at  my  back,  my  lord, 
Than  I  have  thoughts  to  put  them  in,  or  time 
To  act  them  in.     God's  body !     Use  every  man 
After  his  just  deserts,  and  who  would  'scape 
Whipping?    Answer  me  that  philosopher.' 

"'  That's  not  much  commendation  to  ourselves. 
The  valiant  heart's  not  whipt  out  of  his  trade, 
But  since  the  little  wit  that  fools  have  is  eilenc'd, 
The  little  foolery  that  wise  men  have,  makes  a  great  show.' 

"'But  when  we  in  our  viciousness  grow  hard, 
(0  misery  on't)  the  wise  gods  seal  our  eyes 
In  our  own  filth,  drop  our  clear  judgments,  make  us 
Adore  our  errors,  laugh  at 's  while  we  strut, 
To  our  confusion.' 

"'Wherefore  is  this?    I  am  not  sure,  good  sir, 
Though  you  can  guess  what  temperance  should  be, 
You  know  not  what  it  is.     'Tis  kin  to  honour. 
'Twill  make  you  vail  the  top-flag  of  your  pride 
And  fear  to  offend  the  meanest  nobleman.' 

" '  Rend  not  my  heart  with  thy  too  piercing  words 
My  reason  in  the  wind  again s't  me  sits. 
We  are  thus  bad  by  nature,  bad  by  kind, 
But  far,  far  worse  by  art,  and  every  man 
The  greatest  enemy  unto  himself.' 

" '  'Tis  true  we  are  averse  from  God  and  good, 
By  nature  bad,  and  worse  by  ignorance. 
Let  the  first  precept,  then,  on  which  doth  turn 
Knowledge  of  others,  be  set  down  as  this — 
That  we  obtain,  as  far  as  possible, 
That  window  which  Momus  did  e'en  require 
To  see  the  angles  and  recesses  of  man's  heart. 
Methinks  we  would  not  so  ungently  speak 


The  Spanish  Armada.  419 

Of  nature,  nor  of  our  own  kind,  indeed, 

Nor  deem  all  dust  inglorious  and  base. 

I  do  admire  truth's  beauty  sovereign, 

And  fain  my  tongue  would  speak  in  praises  due, 

Witness  t'  the  world  how  worthy  to  be  prais'd; 

The  light  whereof  hath  kindled  heavenly  fire 

In  my  frail  spirit,  and  the  wondrous  sight 

Of  so  celestial  hue,  hath  me  from  baseness  rais'd. 

If,  through  the  narrowness  of  our  nature, 

Or  great  fragility  thereof,  we  are 

Incapable  of  fortitude,  recall 

How  finely  Seneca  to  this  alludes, 

Who  says,  it  is  a  noble  thing,  at  once 

To  participate  i'  th'  frailty  of  man, 

And  the  security  also  of  a  god. 

Himself,  indeed,  was  condemned  for  crimes, 

And  for  corruptions  many,  but  his  pen 

Did  never  freeze,  and  letters  are  extant 

And  books,  which  counsel  wise  and  good  do  give, 

And  divers  precepts  of  great  caution,  too — 

Philosophy,  that  to  peruse  were  good, 

Its  rules  of  justice  did  instruct  men  well.' 

"  *  With  thy  magnetic  might  and  wondrous  wit, 
Thou  makest  this,  thy  Justice,  prais'd  o'er  all. 
Why  lives  it  not  on  earth  immortally?  « 

For,  till  the  world  from  its  perfection  fell 
Into  a  filth  of  foul  iniquity, 

Justice  did  here,  'mongst  earthly  men  once  dwell, 
And  through  the  world  did  walk,  a  sovereign. 
From  good  to  bad,  from  bad  to  worse, 
From  worse  unto  that  worst  of  all, 
And  then  return  unto  his  former  fall, 


420  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Is  but  the  law  of  nature  and  man's  way. 

But  time  shall  come  when  all  shall  changed  be, 

And,  from  thenceforth,  none  no  more  change  shall  see.' 

'"Certainly,  some  things  transitory  are, 
Others  remain  and  shall  when  time  hath  ceas'd. 
Celestial  bodies  do  not  suffer  change ; 
Assurance  and  clear  evidence,  there  is 
Of  facts  like  these,  yet  there  are  prevalent 
And  popular  errors  of  opinion, 
Not  only  of  our  life,  but  future  state; 
These  altogether  should  excluded  be. 
Most  advantageous  would  it  be,  indeed, 
To  add  unto  the  calendar  of  doubts, 
A  calendar  of  falsehood  and  of  wrong, 
In  order  that  the  true  philosophers 
No  longer  may  with  them  be  troubled  sore. 
Sole  comfort  and  an  only  remedy, 
It  were  to  discontent  and  misery ; 
And  every  cause  of  man's  perdition  dire, 
Will  soon  have  fled  with  wings  of  idle  fear. 
Let  me  but  add,  that  Seneca  forbids 
All  sad  companions,  and  such  as  lament 
Their  own  misfortune  and  calamities; 
They  suffer  thus,  I  ween,  a  thousand  deaths 
And  shame  besides,  good  sir,  and  ever  miss 
The  sweet  degrees  that  this  brief  world  affords. 
They  are  by  their  own  minds  sore  vanquished, 
And  reason,  lamb-like,  is  thus  captive  led, 
Servile  to  the  imagination  bold. 
This  in-its  turn,  as  Lemnius  well  observes, 
Fear,  sorrow,  dullness,  terrible  conceits 
And  strange  chimeras  in  the  brain  doth  cause; 


The  Spanish  Armada.  421 

Troubles  the  mind  and  shukes  it  in  its  throne; 

Perverts  the  good  estate  of  body  and  of  mind  ; 

Hinders,  indeed,  most  honourable  attempts, 

And  makes  their  hearts  ache  bad  and  heavy;  aye, 

It  makes  them,  weary  of  their  lives,  cry  out 

And  mourn,  for  very  anguish  of  their  souls; 

Their  spirits  are  all  but  extinguished 

By  these  black  humours  of  the  brain,  i'  truth, 

And  the  poor  patients  need  a  physician, 

And  choicest  med'cine  for  sick  hearts'  relief. 

Demetrius  great  infelicity 

Esteemed  it,  that,  in  his  lifetime  long, 

He  no  misfortune  had;  for  miserable 

Though  men  e'er  be  if  fortune  them  forsake, 

Far  more  if  she  doth  tarry,  and  with  smiles 

Their  judgments  and  their  consciences  o'erwhelm. 

And  one  there  was,  who  plac'd  felicity 

In  the  removal  from  the  mind  of  doubts 

And  scruples  all,  esteeming  actions  good 

Or  evil,  according  as  they  proceed 

From  mind  that  regularly  and  clearly  acts, 

Or  with  reluctance  and  aversion  plain. 

"'  Then  let  thy  fortune  be  whate'er  it  will, 
'Tis  mind  alone  that  makes  thee  poor  or  rich, 
Happy  or  miserable,  honourable, 
Illustrious  and  serene — life  good  or  bad.' 

"'I  have  been  happy,  honourable  and  rich, 
But  now,  indeed,  distressed  am  and  poor, 
A  scorn  of  men  and  burden  to  the  world, 
Irksome  unto  myself,  and  others,  too, 
And  full  of  cares,  griefs  and  anxieties; 
'Tis  as  if  I  were  stabb'd  with  a  sharp  sword ; 


422  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Double  corrosive  is  it  e'en  to  think 
Of  former  fortunes  and  my  present  state, 
Which  may  not  helped  be  nor  altered ; 
O,  'tis  quintessence,  sir  of  misery.' 

"  *  But  stronger  than  his  fortune,  is  the  mind 
Of  every  man,  and  well  should  he  appear 
Of  his  own  dire  distress  incapable. 
Whate'er  necessity  fortune  impose, 
The  rather  may  it  lead  than  drag  him  on.' 

"'Ah !   pity  me,  my  lord,  and  draw  your  sword. 
For  no  discourse  is  pleasant  in  mine  ears, 
But  that  where  every  period  ends  with  death, 
And  every  line  begins  with  death  again. 
Our  God  to  us  forgiveth  every  hour, 
Much  more  than  that,  and  to  His  heavenly  bower, 
Doth  He  that  harrow'd  hell  with  heavy  stowre, 
Bring  all  the  faulty  souls  from  thence,  as  safe 
And  happy  as  the  seraphins  on  high, 
Who  ne'er  have  known  the  pains  of  mortal  life. 
What  sin  you'd  do,  in  taking  thus  my  life, 
Nature  dispenses  with  the  deed  so  far, 
That  it  becomes  a  virtue,  good  my  lord, 
Saves  me  from  shame,  whereby  I'm  much  advantag'd, 
And  still  untainted,  too,  thy  honour  keeps. 
It  is  of  double  use,  and  likewise  serves 
For  purposes  contrary  but  most  just. 
After  my  death,  I  wish  no  other  herald, 
No  other  speaker  of  my  living  action, 
To  keep  my  honour  from  corruption  foul, 
But  such  an  honest  chronicler  as  thou. 
I  have  not  long  to  trouble  thee,  my  lord, 
Reject  not  my  petition  with  disdain, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  423 


As  'twere  a  thing  unworthy  and  unmeet. 

Stab,  stab,  my  lord,  and  mark  your  weapon's  point 

That  will  be  blunted  if  the  blow  be  great.' 

" '  Receive  at  once  my  answer,  haughty  prince. 
Useless  thy  over-subtle  reasons  are — 
Beneath  thy  dignity  ;  pray  leave  them  off. 
When  evil  comes  by  human  injury, 
There's  left  the  meditation  of  revenge 
From  our  own  selves,  or  from  that  Nemesis 
Of  which  we  read ;  or  if,  perchance,  it  be 
By  fortune  or  by  accident,  there's  left 
A  kind  of  expostulation  'gainst  our  fate. 
It  is  alone  by  the  compass  divine, 
The  ship  of  th'  Church  rightly  directs  its  course. 
Neither  will  the  stars  of  philosophy, 
"Which  hitherto  have  on  us  nobly  shone, 
Longer  supply  their  light,  if  I  step  out 
Of  the  trim  bark  of  human  reason  thus. 
By  knowledge,  we  do  learn  ourselves  to  know, 
And  what  to  man,  and  what  to  God  we  owe. 
Even  in  regions  barbarous,  and  rude  times, 
When  other  learning  stood  excluded  all 
This  hath  had  estimation.     Its  nature 
Is  that  of  its  Author  Divine,  with  whom 
A  thousand  years  are  but  as  one  brief  day. 
But  seest  thou  this?     To  reason  evermore 
Why  day  is  day;  night,  night ;  and  time  is  time; 
Were  nothing  but  to  waste  night,  day  and  time.' 

"'  Strange  is  it  that  nature  must  us  compel 
Our  most  persistent  deeds  soon  to  lament, 
Thoug"h  bootless  'tis.     It  sets  my  heart  on  fire. 
My  bread  shall  be  the  anguish  of  my  mind, 


424  The  Spanish  Armada. 

My  drink  the  tears  that  fro'  my  eyes  do  rain, 
My  bed  the  ground  that  hardest  I  may  find, 
So  will  I,  willfully,  increase  my  pain, 
And  in  affliction  waste  my  bitter  age.' 

"  'All  pain  hath  end,  and  every  war  hath  peace.' 
"'But  mine  no  price  or  prayer  may  e'er  surcease.' 
"*  There  is  a  tardiness  in  nature,  sir, 
"Which  often  leaves  the  history  unspoke 
That  she  intends  to  do.     But  this  I  say, — 
Lift  up  thy  heavy  head,  curse  not  so  much 
At  this  unhappy  chance,  excellent  friend, 
Unconstant  Fortune  still  will  have  her  course/ 
" '  There  is  a  wisdom  of  imparting  counsel 
To  others,  and  the  wisdom  of  foresight 
For  one's  own  fortunes.     These  sometimes  do  meet 
But  oftener  sever,  for  many  are  wise 
In  their  own  ways,  yet  weak  for  government — 
Like  ants  that  are  wise  creatures  for  themselves, 
But  very  hurtful  for  the  garden  fruits. 
'Twere  tediousness  the  causes  to  search  out. 

" '  You  to  have  helped,  I  hold  myself  yet  blest.' 
Quoth  I, '  Full  hard  it  is  to  read  aright 
The  course  of  Heavenly  Cause,  or  understand 
The  secret  meaning  of  th'  Eternal  might, 
That  rules  men's  ways  and  rules  the  thoughts  of  men. 
For  whether  he,  through  fatal  deep  foresight, 
Me  hither  sent,  for  cause  to  me  unguess'd  ; 
Or  that  fresh  bleeding  wound,  which,  day  and  night, 
E'er  doth  rankle  in  my  riven  breast, 
With  forced  fury,  following  his  behest, 
Me  hither  brought,  by  ways  yet  never  found ; 
By  what  adventure,  or  what  high  intent, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  425 

I  know  not,  but  again  I  come  to  be 

Thy  saviour  from  a  foe  worse  than  the  sea. 

"  The  casualty  of  the  sea  had  made  us  friends, 
Though  he  had  wrought  us  woe  on  sea  and  land. 
When  first  his  ship  appear'd  upon  our  coast, 
I  would  have  muster'd  all  the  winds  unto  his  wreck, 
And  urg'd  each  element  to  his  utmost  annoy. 
Yet  soon  I  did  repent  me  of  his  ruth, 
And  did  regret  my  causeless  words  of  wrath. 

"  The  hope  of  new  good  hap  he'gan  to  feel, 
And  yet  his  look  was  stern,  and  seeni'd  to  threat 
Cruel  revenge,  which  in  his  heart  did  hide. 
Thus  I  did  him  address  :    'My  Sovereign, 
Whose  glory  is  in  gracious  deeds,  who  joys 
Throughout  the  world  her  mercy  to  maintain, 
Will  soon  devise  redress  for  such  annoys.' 

"Our  conversation  no  continuance 
Did  further  have  then,  for  a  time. 
.But  he  had  promis'd  me  before  I  left, 
That,  as  he  was  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier, 
He  would  not  hurt  himself.     He  kept  his  oath." 

"  Had  he  any  inclination  to  such  folly, 
Or  did  he  think  'twould  be  to  his  advantage 
To  have  you  carry  such  report  unto  the  Queen?" 

"  Why,  sir,  of  this  I  cannot  truly  say. 
But  given  lights  do  the  opinion  favour, 
It  was,  indeed,  most  genuine  subtlety. 
Take  each  one  in  his  vein,  'twas  natural. 
My  wandering  fancy,  forgetting  strife,  did  range 
And  cast  a  secret  liking  to  this  captive  strange. 
Then  I  'gan  him  to  comfort  all  my  best, 
And  with  my  counsel,  strove  to  mitigate 


426  The  Spanish  Armada. 

The  stormy  passion  of  his  troubled  breast. 
He,  thereby,  was  far  more  compassionate, 
As  stubborn  steed  that  is  with  curb  restrain'd. 
Then  I,  no  less  disdaining,  back  return'd 
His  scornful  taunts  into  his  teeth  again, 
And  he  straightway  with  haughty  choler  burn'd. 
Words  sharply  wound,  but  greatest  grief  is  scorn, 
And  useless  'twere,  indeed,  for  me  to  preach 
Hell  and  damnation,  tell  him  'twas  a  sin, — 
He'd  not  believe  it ;  he  would  not  attend, 
But,  as  the  enchanted  adder,  stop  his  ears, 
All  they  their  consciences  had  cauteriz'd — 
Those  Spaniards  of  King  Philip's  faith,  you  wot. 
As  after  storms,  when  clouds  begin  to  clear, 
The  sun  more  bright  and  glorious  doth  appear, 
So  they  their  folk,  through  pains  of  purgatory, 
Do  bear  to  perfect  bliss  and  heaven's  glory." 
"He  was  practis'd  well  in  policy  no  doubt." 
"  My  dearest  friend,  to  whom  right  well  thou  know'st 
My  soul  is  knit,  my  sweetest  favorite, 
Tis  in  regard  of  thee  and  of  thy  future 
That  I  would  speak.     Many  there  are,  my  friend, 
Who'll  be  aveng'd  on  thee  for  all  I've  writ, 
But  thou  shalt  scorn  their  threats  and  menaces." 

"My  lord,  perceive  you  how  these  murmurs  swell?" 
"  Yea,  but  that  matters  not.     'Tis  but  a  sound. 
Therefore  go  on  in  haste,  defend  your  right ; 
Thou'lt  make  them  stoop;  thy  head  o'erlooks  the  rest, 
As  much  as  thou  in  mind  outwent'st  the  rest. 
Now  is  it  time  to  cross  the  seas,  make  friends 
In  England  first,  then  sail  for  France  amain. 
Thou  shalt  be  famous  through  all  Italy, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  427 

And  honour'd  of  the  German  Emperor. 

These  deeds  shall  crown  what  you  are  doing  now. 

Veil'd  is  your  pride,  methinks  you  hang  your  head. 

Is  Knowledge,  then,  so  cowardly  a  knight, 

That  with  no  man  he  dares  engage  in  fight  ?  " 

"And  shall  I,  then,  frame  my  excuse,  my  lord? 
I  measure  all  these  countries  in  my  thoughts, 
Without  knowing  how  thus  to  enter  them. 
The  mother-tongue  alone  is  all  I  speak. 
And  time  is  short,  myself  for  to  prepare 
To  meet  in  any  court  the  feeblest  there." 

"And  shall  it  please  thee,  then,  when  thou  art  known 
Throughout  the  world  faint-hearted  for  to  be  ?" 

"  Unarmed  so  I  durst  not  try,  my  lord." 

"  Yea,  but  sith  all  do  know  my  name,  my  friend, 
Thou  canst  not  miss  thy  object,  that  is  plain, 
Nor  love,  nor  hate,  can  wrest  these  words  awry. 
Thou  hast  the  guides,  thou  hast  the  many  books, 
In  which  there  written  are  with  ciphers  plain, 
The  histories  that  I've  conceal'd  awhile. 
But  now  the  time  is  ripe,  and  without  fear, 
I  may  bewray  myself  with  freedom  fair, 
Even  on  England's  consecrated  ground, 

And  all  that  now  America  men  call. 

_. -^       vi-  r  ' 

Nor  may  molested  be  by  any  power. 

Now  in  thy  pages  let  my  fortune  be 

Writ  out  so  clear  that  who  runs  by  may  read, 

Then  let  some  gentle  breeze  blow  all  abroad, 

That  all  the  world  may  see  how  hard  the  fate, 

In  former  times  of  England's  proudest  prince, 

Undone,  and  forfeited  fore'er  to  cares." 

"  Mild  is  the  mind,  where  honour  builds  her  bow'r 


428  The  Spanish  Armada. 


And  yet  is  earthly  honour  but  a  flow'r." 

"  Good,  very  good,  my  friend  ;  so  let  it  be." 
"  This,  only,  I  content  must  be  to  plead, 

For  safe  excusal  of  my  guiltless  thought, 

Thy  honour  more  makes  my  mishap  the  less." 

"The  heavenly  powers  do  not  repent  their  deeds; 

What!   can  a  mortal  man,  in  truth,  discern 

Betwixt  the  sacred  gifts  of  this  just  heaven? 

Wert  thou  not  chosen  there  by  full  consent? 

Of  all  that  nature  fram'd,  have  they  not  learn'd 

To  ken  the  fairest  of  an  earthly  flock? 

Doth  it  require  a  great  and  thundering  speech 

To  tell  the  cause?     Methinks  thou  shouldst  not  be 

Disquieted,  but  ready  to  receive 

All  that,  in  this,  I  have  on  thee  enjoin'd, 

Take  now  these  instruments ;  all  is  uneven, 

And  everything  is  left  at  six  and  seven ; 

The  corner-stone  of  England's  greatness's  here, 

Build  thou  the  palace  as  I  guide  thy  hand; 

The  walls  will  be  of  colour'd  jasper  stone, 

Wherein  is  Proteus  carv'd,  and  overhead 

A  lively  vine  of  green  sea-agate  spread, 

And  strew'd  with  pearls  from  the  low  coral  grove ; 

The  pavement  all  of  crystal  shining  bright; 

The  columns  tall  and  fair,  but  wondrous  massy, 

And  round  about  yfett'red  all,  with  gold 

And  ostentation  of  displayed  arms. 

So  shall  it  be  an  honour  to  the  land, 

And  long,  long  after  thee  shall  stately  stand, 

The  palace  of  the  silent  Destinies, 

Who  now,  by  me,  make  thee  their  architect." 

"Rome  might  be  won  with  far  less  toil,  and  yet 


The  Spanish  Armada.  429 

The  honour's  more ;  you  know  the  saying  old — 
'Give  arras  to  youth  and  honour  unto  age.' 

"  Then  die  in  honour  for  in  this  thou'rt  armed, 
And  to  thy  fame,  join  victory  in  all. 
Those  circumstances  of  time,  persons,  place, 
By  which  it  ebbs  and  flows,  I  may  annex. 
First,  thine  own  death,  and  after,  thy  long  fame." 

"  I  am  a  man  as  other  men  are,  sir, 
Indeed  I  wish  you  would  not  name  by  name, 
And  yet  would  tell  me  plainly  of  my  times." 

"Ah!     shouldstthou  know  the  very  time,  my  friend, 
When  Death  with  golden  arrow  at  thee'll  shoot 
With  certain  aim,  thou  couldst  not  then  affect 
Thy  business  with  such  care  as  it  behooves. 
So  let  it  rest,  and  speed  thee  in  thy  task. 

"  All  further  discourse  now  must  I  delay 
Until  that  I've  rehears'd  the  story  old, 
How  pass'd  we  through  the  tossing  watery  way, 
Ere  we  again  to  England's  shores  were  brought, 

"  The  captain  did  most  earnestly  entreat 
My  company,  and  sent  some  of  his  men 
T'attend  my  honourable  gentleman, 
And  my  most  honour'd  self  to  wait  upon 
With:     'Will't  please  your  honour  to  dine  with  me?' 

"  I  did  assent.     No  niggard  sure  was  he, 
And  glad,  indeed,  was  I  to  find,  at  sea, 
A  couple  of  companions  fine  and  free. 
Pray  where's  the  cup  so  sweet  as  that  we  drank, 
In  honour  of  our  rescue  from  the  waves, 
And  blest  return  to  life  and  light  of  heaven? 
The  stars  had  put  their  torches  out, 
And  far  across  the  waters,  gentle  Day, 


430  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Before  the  wheels  of  Phcebus  round  about, 

Dappled  the  drowsy  east  with  spots  of  gray, 

Or  e'er  we  took  our  leave,  and  bade  farewell, 

With  thanks  to  our  kind  host  and  all  our  friends. 

And,  presently,  we  did  begin  to  speak 

Upon  the  question  old,  whether  the  stars 

Are  real  fires ;  and  I,  myself,  did  treat 

Of  organs,  or  cradles,  of  heat  and  cold — 

A  subject  hitherto  unknown  to  men 

And  all  untouch'd.    Indeed  I've  no  respect 

For  that  most  simple  notion  of  Thales, 

"Who  thought  that  the  celestial  fires  were  fed 

On  vapours,  clarified,  of  the  earth  and  sea; 

And  that  they  thence  were  nourish'd  and  repair'd, 

"Whereas,  we  know  these  vapours  fall  again, 

In  quantity  almost  the  same  as  first  they  rose, 

And  far,  indeed,  are  they  from  being  enough, 

Both  earth  and  the  celestial  globes  t'  refre'sh. 

"  My  Spaniard,  'twixt  half  sleeping  and  awake 
Sat  sadly  dumping  while  I  thus  discours'd. 
When  the  occasion  and  his  temper  serves, 
The  thread  of  his  verbosity  he  draweth  out 
Much  finer  than  the  staple  of  his  argument. 
But  I  abhor  phantasms  fantastical, 
And  know  not  what  a  man  can  mean,  to  speak 
As  if  his  thoughts  were  dancing  to  the  tune 
Of  war  alone,  or  of  revenge  and  hate. 
What  man  of  temper  good  would  this  endure? 
To  him  I  said :  *  This  will  we  not  discuss. 
Thou,  that  in  conduct  of  thy  happy  stars, 
Sleep'st  every  night  with  conquests  on  thy  brow, 
And  yet  wouldst  shun  the  wavering  turns  of  war, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  431 


In  fear  and  feeling  of  the  like  distress 

Thou  suff'rest  now,  what  key  hast  thou  in  hand, 

To  aid  thy  thoughts  in  their  so  bold  escape? 

Or  dost  thou  see  Briareas  shake  at  once 

An  hundred  bloody  swords  with  bloody  hands?' 

"  He  'gan  to  rage  and  inly  fret,  and  cried  : — 
i  Thinkst  thou  I  will  be  scared  with  thy  words? 
I  tell  thee  here,  he  faceth  thee  whom  naught 
In  chance  of  war  can  daunt,  save  slavery. 
I  see,  alas !   a  promontory  high, 
Nearer  to  which  we  do  approach  apace. 
The  motion  of  the  ship  so  vigorous  is, 
That  'twill  o'ercome  the  distance  in  short  time. 
A  few  short  hours  do  still  remain  to  me 
Ere  I  myself  must  render  to  the  Queen, 
Or  you,  my  lord,  must  yield  your  prisoner, 
Unto  the  darksome  dungeon's  wretched  thrall. 
Things  that  most  grievious  are  to  do,  or  dare.' 

"  'Aye,  soon  we'll  come  unto  my  native  soil, 
Where  first  you'll  set  your  foot  upon  the  shore 
In  which  love's  beauteous  Empress  most  delights. 
There  dwell,  indeed,  fair  graces  many  one, 
And  gentle  nymphs,  delights  of  learned  wit.' 

"'In  thy  Queen's  person  without  paragon, 
All  goodly  bounty  and  true  honour  sits. 
For  dear  affection,  and  unfeigned  zeal, 
Which  to  her  noble  personage  you  bear, 
To  do  her  homage  thou  wilt  haste  to  approach, 
To  shine  in  honour  brighter  than  the  sun. 
For  if  thou  lik'st  the  pleasures  of  the  Court, 
Thou  wilt  not  stay  behind  when  once  we  land.' 

" '  Why  in  such  sudden  sort  as  now  thou  say'st 


432  The  Spanish  Armada. 


We  both  should  go,  I  know  not  my  good  friend. 

I  cannot  take  thee  thus  to  bear  me  company, 

Nor  lazing  stand  as  if  I'd  naught  to  do. 

I'm  sorry  to  give  breathing  to  my  purpose — 

I  must  away,  mine  office  to  perform 

Of  right  and  loyalty  unto  the  Queen. 

I'll  say  to  thee  farewell  till  there  we  meet/ 

"Our  vessel  happily  its  anchor  cast 
On  England's  blessed  shores,  and  swift  a  boat 
Did  land  me  on  a  rock  beneath  a  hill, 
Far  from  the  town  where  all  was  whist  and  still, 
Save  that  the  sea,  playing  on  yellow  sands, 
Sent  forth  a  rattling  murmur  to  the  land. 
'Twas  like  enchantment,  that,  through  both  the  eyes, 
And  both  the  ears  did  steal  the  heart  away. 
Now  being  left  alone  'mid  covert  shade, 
Under  the  greenwood  I  did  safely  rest. 
The  sun  of  heaven,  methought,  was  loath  to  set, 
But  stay'd  and  made  the  western  welkin  blush. 
But  when  mine  eyes  search'd  each  remotest  part 
Before  my  view,  e'en  to  the  sharp  sea  coast, 
Lo,  pricking  towards  me  with  a  hasty  heat, 
One  strongly  arm'd  (and  on  a  courser  free 
That  through  his  fierceness  foamed  all  for  sweat.) 
I  lightly  leapt  out  of  my  place  of  rest, 
For  well  I  recogniz'd  rider  and  steed — 
It  was  the  body  servant  of  my  friend, 
(Anthony  Cook,  a  man  of  noble  mind, 
For  arras  and  courtship  equal  to  the  best. 
Valor  and  virtue  sat  upon  his  helm, 
Whom  love  and  lowering  fortune  led  along; 
Famous  beyond  the  chalky  English  cliffs, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  433 


And  lov'd  and  honour'd  in  his  country's  bounds ;) 
And  I  did  haste  to  hear  what  he  might  say, 
For,  by  his  port,  I  saw  that  it  was  weighty. 

"  *  My  master  is  at  dinner  with  Valdes — 
Hath  cast  off  arms  to  sit  with  him  in  state, 
Though  him  he  still  detains  in  captive  hold. 
They  do  converse  and  waste  the  time  together, 
As  sacred  peace  did  lovingly  persuade 
Their  warlike  minds  to  learn  her  goodly  lore/ 

"'Their  conference  will  be  more  help  to  me 
Than  all  my  labours  plod  I  ne'er  so  fast, 
And,  therefore,  let  me  be  thus  bold  with  you 
To  ask  you  to  accompany  me  thither.' 

" '  Certes,  my  lord,  I  will  attend  you  there.' 

u  In  silence  we  return'd  unto  the  town. 
In  a  short,  quiet  street,  my  guide  did  halt. 

"'  'Tis  the  description  of  their  meeting  place. 
I'm  sure  the  fellow  dare  not  deceive  me,'  he  said. 

"  We  enter'd  and  I  saw  two  Spanish  guests, 
Both  whom  they  goodly  well  did  entertain, 
But  yet,  methinks,  their  hot  heads  ne'er  had  known 
Though  were  the  tables  taken  all  away. 
My  brother  Anthony  did  also  feast 
"With  them.    'Ah,  ha ! '  I  laugh'd, « how  farest  thoa  ? 
Anthony,  give  me  thy  good  hand,  I  say, 
I  did  not  think  to  see  thee  here  to-day. 
The  heart  of  brothers  govern  in  our  loves, 
And  knit  our  hearts  with  an  unslipping  knot.' 

"  lie  nodded,  and  soberly  did  he  stand, 
Took  my  hand,  and  then  did  make  his  eyes 
Grow  in  my  brow.     'After  the  feast,'  said  he, 
'  We'll  to  the  sea,  and  there  we'll  talk. 

3 


434  The  Spanish  Armada. 


I  know  theo  now,  for  I  perceive  thou  livest.' 

"'I  see,  I  see,'  said  I, ' I  bad  forgot ! 
Thou  think'st  me  dead?    Fear  not,  I  am  alive. 
Clear  thy  watery  eyes,  wipe  tears  away, 
And  cheerfully  give  welcome  to  these  arms.' 

"Thus  assured,  after  greetings,  we  sit  down, 
One,  glad  to  satisfy  himself,  prepar'd 
To  tell  through  what  misfortune  he  had  far'd, 
In  that  achievement,  what  to  him  befell, 
Proud  of  his  highest  service,  e'en  this  hap. 
List  while  he  speaks — 

" '  There's  some  ill  planet  reigns, 
I  must  be  patient  till  the  heavens  look 
"With  aspect  favourable,  good  my  lord. 
Friends,  fortunes,  birth,  alliance,  ebb  and  flow/ 

"'Long  mayest  thou  live  and  die  in  fame  at  last ! 
But  what  think'st  thou,'  the  host  at  length  enquir'd, 
'  Of  the  smooth  smiling  villainy  of  Drake, 
"Who  keeps  the  prisoners,  to  his  own  use, 
Which  he  in  this  adventure  hath  surpris'd, 
And  doth  deny  that  he  that  number  took?'   . 

"'Nay,  not  for  his  own  purposes,  that's  plain, 
Doth  he  those  prisoners  keep.     You  do  him  wrong. 
If  he  doth  any  prisoners  deny, 
*Tis  with  proviso  and  exceptions,  sir, 
That  they  be  ransom'd  straight,  as  sure  they  will,' 

"  There  seems  no  words  with  which  to  answer  this, 
And  yet  'tis  said  by  some  authorities, 
Drake  kept  all  the  rewards  that  thus  he  glean'd. 
Gf  that,  indeed,  nothing  can  well  be  known. 
But  envy  is  as  the  sunbeams  that  beat 
Hotter  upon  a  bank  of  rising  ground, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  435 

Than  on  a  flat,  as  all  may  well  have  seen ; 
And  in  mankind  the  lesser  parts  doth  move — 
Outrageous  anger  and  woe-working  jar, 
Direful  impatience,  and  all  jealous  fear.' 

" '  Fill  me  some  wine,'  commands  the  generous  host. 
Soon  the  blithe  guests  forget  their  sorrows,  all, 
And  do  proceed  to  tell,  as  will  appear, 
Much  that  unto  their  cause,  would  as  it  were, 
Mean  mischief,  and  do  on  their  allegiance  recant. 
Folly,  reserve  thy  state  and  majesty 
When  wisdom  falleth  to  !     How  their  tongues  wag  ! 

" '  It  is  for  you  to  speak,  not  for  ourselves.' 
Saith  he  of  lesser  rank,  in  modest  wise. 
And  yet  look  on  him,  mark  him  well,  doth  he 
A  second  pause?     Impetuous  for  his  speech, 
As  streams  of  water  fresh  from  riven  rock, 
Doth  gush,  and  drown  all  other  speech  and  voice. 

"  '  Our  orders  we  did  strive  to  execute. 

) 

The  king  himself,  th'  Admiral  did  direct 

Neither  to  right  or  left  aside  to  turn 

For  anything,  as  all  will  testify, 

But  straight  to  this  wish'd  haven  guide  his  course. 

Where  all  the  other 'forces  could  him  join, 

And  friends  of  a  like  faith  give  welcome  kind. 

The  Admiral  made  a  vow  not  to  depart, 

As  long  as  he  had  victuals  for  his  men, 

And  ready  money  for  his  officers. 

But  presently,  Drake  clapp'd  him  on  the  back, 

With  hand,  i'  faith,  mailed  so  heavily, 

Small  wonder  was  it  to  behold  him  shrink, 

And  slip  away  into  the  open  seas, 

Where  he  will  forced  be  to  hasten  home, 


436  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Through  all  the  stormy  waters  of  the  North. 
I  love  the  man,  aye,  dearly,  dearly  well, 
And  here's  the 'misery  that  plucks  out  my  heart, 
And  burneth  worse  than  any  tears  can  drown, 
With  strained  pride,  at  the  last,  to  perceive 
His  power  and  potency  before  this  day 
Dissolv'd  like  dreams,  and  vanish'd  in  thin  air.' 

"'Think'st  thou  that  duty  shall  have  dread  to  speak 
When  pow'r  to  flattery  bows?     Listen,  my  friend, — 
Your  king's  will  ne'er  perform'd  shall  be, 
While  England  hath  an  arm  to  give  her  help. 
As  for  those  words  the  which  that  boaster  threw, 
We'll  cast  them  back  into  his  teeth  again.' 

" '  Peace !   peace !     We  measure  backward  our  own 

ground, 

And,  like  a  bated  and  retired  flood, 
Stoop  low  within  these  bounds ;  there's  no  more  hope 
Of  reparation,  nor  can  we  renew 
The  daring  challenge  that  so  late  we  sent. 
We  thought  to  slay  your  children  and  your  wives; 
To  fire  the  churches,  pull  the  houses  down, 
Take  all  the  goods,  and  seize  upon  the  lands; 
Aye,  even  hop'd  to  see  the  Queen  a  slave, 
Sold  iu  the  market  like  a  common  girl; 
And  all  the  lords  (save  those  of  Philip's  faith) 
Slaves,  too,  rowing  in  galleys,  whipt  to  death, 
Their  bodies  thrown  outside  thy  cities'  walls, 
To  be  the  prey  of  vultures,  and  wild  beasts; 
And  every  soldier  that  we  found  in  arms 
Should  strangled  be,  or  into  prison  cast, 
Where  straight  the  king  would  send,  by  word  of  mouth, 
And  bid  the  attendants  let  the  rack  be  fetcht, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  437 

Make  fires,  heat  irons — perchance  you  know  the  rest — ' 

"  '  Cease,  Sirrah,  cease,  or  by  the  heavens  I'll  cut 
Your  boasting,  lying  tongue  out  by  the  roots. 
Thou'rt  guilty  of  a  thousand  villainies 
By  your  own  words.     You've  murder' d  all  my  faith, 
And  do  deserve  the  gallows,  or  a  prison 
Made  all  so  sure  that  none  can  thee  deliver/ 

" '  Nay,  stay  my  lord,  and  take  a  truce.     "Why  rail 
So  fierce  at  me  ?    None  have  escaped  thy  hand. 
A  damned  slave  am  I  e'en  at  this  hour. 
(If  for  my  villainies  I  am  unfit 
To  dwell  on  earth,  much  less  I'm  fit  for  heaven.) 
I  sue  for  mercy  to  my  conquering  foe.' 

"'So  shall  thy  just  request  not  be  denied, 
For,  though  thou  mak'st  my  heart  a  bloody  mark, 
And  dost  envenom  me  with  poison'd  words, 
The  courtesy  that's  due  unto  a  guest 
I'll  not  forget,  as  thou  indeed  shalt  see. 
I  can  ne  tune  my  pipe  unto  that  song; 
Pray  find  some  other  strain  to  harp  upon. 
Greatly  I  fear  we've  drown'd  our  wits  in  wine, 
And  sottish  grown  as  Parthians  of  old. 
The  next  course  shall  be  serv'd  straightway,  my  friends. 
'Tis  better  that  we  eat  rather  than  drink.' 

" '  This  cup  of  wine  sure  grew  in  Paradise, 
And  hath  in  Adam's  cellar  since  been  kept.' 

"  '  Thanks  for  your  courtesy.     Then  this  great  ox 
Hath  every  day  fed  on  a  thousand  hills ; 
And  this  great  bird  hath  laid  an  egg  so  big, 
Out  of  the  nest  tumbling,  by  chance  it  broke 
And  drown'd  more  than  an  hundred  villages. 
This  bird  stood  in  the  sea  up  to  the  knees, 


438  The  Spanish  Armada. 

And  yet  so  deep  the  sea,  that  in  seven  years, 
A  hatchet  dropt  by  chance,  into  its  depth, 
"Would  not  indeed,  down  to  the  bottom  fall. 
Choose  now  one  stupend  fiction  'mongst  the  rest. 
Which  like  you  best?     Think  you  perchance  I  jest?* 

"'1  think  you  mock  me,  sir,  thus  palpably.' 

" '  Men  should  enlarge  their  minds  to  th'  amplitude 
Of  this  great  world,  and  not  reduce  the  world 
To  th'  narrowness  of  their  own  minds,  my  friend.' 

"I  saw  their  anger  melt  away  again, 
E'en  as  a  form  of  wax  against  the  fire, 
Resolveth  from  its  figure  and  outline. 
And  I  did  note  as  the  swift  time  was  spent, 
How  diversely  the  wine  had  wrought  on  them, 
When  that  the  fumes  did  mount  unto  their  brain. 
My  friend,  with  watchful  eyes,  o'erlook'd  his  guests, 
Watchful  t'  avoid  the  dangers  incident 
Unto  his  part,  but  as  for  the  Spaniard, 
His  tongue  was  loos'd  again  and  set  to  wag; 
And,  though  I  took  it  neither  for  a  brag, 
Nor  for  a  wish  to  create  feeling  ill, 
Yet  glad  was  I  to  note  his  speech  did  run 
Upon  their  purposes.     I  learn'd  the  means 
Preparative,  to  fall  with  crushing  weight 
Upon  the  port  nearest  the  capital. 
For  they  would  stab  our  country  to  the  heart, 
And  seek  to  let  her  life  out  through  the  vein 
Of  the  great  Thames,  that  doth  her  life  supply. 

"Although  it  be  but  true  this  was  their  purpose, 
By  accident  they  went  not  through  with  it, 
But  were  enforced  to  retire  in  haste, 
Whereof  we  soon  shall  speak  in  proper  place. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  439 

Oh,  bravely  came  we  off  as  conquerors! 

"The  thing,  no  doubt,  which  e'en  did  daunt  me  most, 
Was  that  the  Spanish  nature  only  is 
Of  women  spoil  to  make ;  it  made  me  vow 
To  do  my  devoir  'gainst  that  haughty  king, 
Ere  he  should  stain  the  name  of  England's  Queen. 
O  think,  I  pray,  if  this  doth  move  your  minds, 
So  that  ye  hold  nor  lives  nor  honors  dear, 
Spent  in  a  quarrel  just  and  honourable, 
What  to  the  lawful,  true-succeeding  Prince — 
Though  fate  for'cr  his  kingdom  should  withold — 
This  dangerous  and  dreadful  war  portends  ! 
O  glorious  Queen !     O  sacred  Sovereign  ! 
Where's  now  the  hope  thou  hast  of  haughty  Spain  ? 
Ungrateful  mother  though  thou  art,  thou'rt  mine; 
My  trembling  hands  to  heaven's  throne  I  lift 
For  thee,  and  for  the  honor  of  thy  name ! 
Long  mayst  thou  live  in  glory  and  great  power  ! 

"  The  greatest  and  most  glorious  thing  on  ground, 
May  often  need  the  help  of  weaker  hands 
To  pluck  down  scorn  of  sovereignty  betimes, 
The  right  maintain,  and  violence  suppress, 
Or  tread  down  bold  usurping  aspirants — 
The  chiefest  lets  and  authors  of  all  harms. 
For  this  thy  slave  am  I,  my  gracious  Queen, 
Servile  as  any  held  with  captive  bands, 
A  trusty  servant,  well  approv'd  in  all." 

"  There  is  no  less  requir'd  for  government, 
A  courage  to  protect,  and  above  all 
An  honesty  and  probity  of  the  will, 
To  abstain  from  injury  to  great  or  small. 
Fitness  to  govern  is  a  business  perplex'd. 


440  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Some  men  excel  in  one  ability 

Some  in  the  other,  therefore  the  position 

Which  you  intend  is  not  comparative, 

But  he  that  wiser  is,  or  juster,  e'er  should  rule. 

Fairer,  and  nobler,  live'th  none  this  hour, 

Ne  like  in  grace,  ne  like  in  learned  skill, 

Than  England's  prince,  divorced  though  from  power. 

But  who  would  govern  must  himself  command — " 

"  That's  a  precept  I've  mention'd  oft  before. 
Not  well  should  I,  my  so  great  birth  become, 
Nor  e'er  my  head  justly  deserve  a  crown, 
If,  first  of  all,  this  wisdom  I  have  not, 
And  manly  sternness  mine  own  self  to  rule. 
For  this,  I  wait,  that  scorn  attendance  else, 
For  this,  this  head,  this  heart,  this  hand,  this  sword 
Contrives,  imagines,  and  fully  executes 
Matters  of  import  aimed  at  by  many." 

"  Meanwhile  DeValdes,  prick'd  with  sudden  shame, 
As  one  awaken'd  out  of  slumbering  shade, 
Reviving  thought  of  glory,  and  of  fame, 
United  all  his  powers  to  purge  from  blame, 
Himself,  and  noble  friend  who  next  him  sat, 
Like  as  a  fire,  the  which,  in  hollow  cave, 
Hath  long  been  underkept  and  down  supprest, 
Breaks  out  with  noise  and  rumour  of  the  field, 
Fiercely  his  words  pour'd  forth,  with  giant  force, 
As  with  a  kind  of  fury  he  were  seiz'd. 
But  these  I  thought  it  nought  worth  while  to  note — 
It  were  an  idle  task  to  undertake. 

14  *  What  needs  more  words  ?     Good  night,'  I  said  to 

them, 
*  Good  Anthony,  come,  let's  go  to  the  shore,' 


The  Spanish  Armada.  441 

And  we  with  sweet  celerity  do  leave  them  there. 
We  foot  our  way  then  to  the  hills  adjoining 
To  the  city,  where  we  may  best  look  out 
And  the  galleys  of  our  foe  discover. 

"'O  Anthony,  Anthony,  Anthony, 
Our  separation  so  abides  with  me, 
That  I  am  onion  ey'd.     I  am  an  asse 
To  weep.     Thou  art  the  armour  o'  my- heart. 
Come,  take  heed  you  fall  not  on  this  cliff! 
Like  long  lost  friends  together  let  us  sit.' 

"  So  eager  was  I  to  learn  ought  of  my  home, 
That  I  did  quite  forget  that  we  had  mounted, 
Unto  the  foreland's  top  to  cast  our  eyes 
Upon  the  waste  of  waves  in  search  of  vagrant  sail, 
That  might  some  tidings  bring  of  either  fleet. 
An  hour  we  spent  in  happy  converse  there, 
Then,  taking  leave  of  him,  I  did  depart 
With  great  impatience  mov'd  to  find  my  friend, 
Who  all  that  night  remain'd  with  his  strange  guests, 
For  fear  lest  by  their  art,  or  some  device, 
He  should  their  purpose  miss,  which  close  they  hid. 
Inly  resolv'd  was  he  not  to  give  over, 
Till  he  the  conquest  of  their  wills  recovered. 
What  man  is  there  so  wise,  what  wit  so  ware, 
As  to  decry  a  crafty,  cunning  train, 
By  which  deceit  doth  mask  in  visor  fair, 
And   cast  her  colours  dyed  in  grain 
To  seem  like  truth,  whose  shape  she  well  can  feign? 

" '  Restless,  recomfortless,  with  heart  deep  griev'd 
I  wandered  in  the  streets  right  discontent, 
When,  by  a  chance,  my  brother  I  recouuter£d, 
Accompanied  by  certain  of  his  friends. 


442  The  Spanish  Armada. 

" '  Good  morrow  to  thee,  welcome  Anthony. 
Thou  look'st  like  him  that  knows  a  warlike  charge 
To  business  that  we  love  and  go  to  with  delight ; 
What  is't  you  say?    Your  presence  needs  must  puzzle  me.' 

"'News  do  I  bring  of  a  rich  laden  vessel 
Of  merchandise  wreck'd  on  the  narrow  seas, 
Which  I  did  apprehend  as  soon  as  seen.' 

"'Is  it  not  strange  you  could  put  out  to  sea 
So  quickly,  and  the  Spanish  vessel  seize  ?  ' 

"'Celerity  is  never  more  admir'd 
Than  by  the  negligent,  'tis  often  said.' 

"'A  good  rebuke,  which  well  might  have  becom'd 
The  best  of  men  to  taunt  at  slackness.' 

" '  The  Jacquenetta  is  the  vessel  call'd, 
A  bark  rich  laden,  gloriously  array'd, 
In  goodly  colors  which  I  chanc'd  to  see 
Ploughing  the  deep,  to  the  low  countries  bound, 
Laden  with  jewels  and  with  precious  ore — 
Treasure  oft  from  the  Spanish  Islands  brought — 
In  Neptune's  glassy  field  still  tossed  with  violence. 
A  company  of  loiterers  who  live 
By  plundering,  gazing  seaward  from  the  land, 
Did  soon  the  Spanish  vessel's  plight  espy, 
And,  like  to  greedy  hawks  in  haste  they  sped, 
To  seize  their  prey  and  feast  upon  this  wealth. 
The  whiles  their  keels  the  surges  cleave, 
And  all  the  sailors  merry  make  for  joy, 
The  wind  hath  come  about  east  and  by  south, 
And  pluck'd  from  them  all  hope  of  the  rich  spoil. 
If  you  will  aid  me  in  this  enterprise, 
I  have  resolv'd  the  treasure  to  divide.' 

"'Do  it  not,  detain  no  jot,  I  charge  thee. 


flrW 
\ 


The  Spanish  Armada.  443 


Shall  any  son  of  England  prove  a  thief? 

His  sisters'  slander  and  his  mother's  shame, 

E'er  be  the  share  of  him  who  could  such  ill  contrive.' 

"'Mince  thy  tongue:  rail  thou  not  and   taunt   my 

faults. 

Most  noble  sir,  be  pleas'd  that  I  shake  off 
Those  names  you  give  to  me,  for  never  yet 
Was  Anthony  a  pirate  or  a  thief.' 

"'The  company  thou  keepest  doth  defile. 
Take  heed  and  guide  thy  ways  lest  worse  betide. 
Though  gilded  be  the  ship  with  beaten  sheets 
Of  gold,  thou  dost  mistake  thy  business. 
The  Queen's  a  squire  more  tight  at  this  than  thou; 

Alack!  sir,  she  is  cunning  past  man's  thought-.. &- 

She  doth  already  know  what  thou  hast  done, 
And  hath  now  sent  for  thce.     Do  not  abuse 
The  bounty  of  our  majesty,  but  show 
To  all  the  world  her  nobleness  well  acted, 
The  which  thy  death  will  never  let  come  forth.' 

"  '  Speak  not  against  it,  I'll  not  stay  behind. 
I  shall  have  share  in  this  most  happy  wreck; 
We  bid  that  welcome  which  doth  come  to  punish  us ; 
I  say  let  them  be  left,  that  leaves  itself; 
All  cowards  I  instruct  to  run  and  show 
Their  shoulders.     Need  of  you  my  course  hath  not. 
I'll  lay  my  head  to  any  good  man's  hat, 
These  oaths  and  laws  will  prove  an  idle  scorn. 
Mine  honest  friends  I  turn  you  not  away; 
Rebukable  it  were,  and  worthy  shameful  check 
To  stand  on  more  mechanic  compliment. 
Come  you  that  will ;  now  follow  close,  I'll  bring 
You  to  the  ship  and  of  its  treasure  you  possess.' 


444  The  Spanish  Armada. 

" '  Such  self  assurance  need  not  fear  the  spite 
Of  grudging  foes,  lie  favor  seek  of  friends, 
Yet,  weigh  what  is  embrac'd,  and  what  may  follow ; 
So  your  desires  are,  make  your  soonest  haste. 
My  brother,  better  were  the  love  not  yours 
Which  seeks  now  to  preserve  thee  from  this  stain. 
Right  here  doth  lie  the  point  that  warrants  me, 
That,  notwithstanding  thy  capacity 
Receiveth  as  the  sea,  nought  enters  there — 
Of  what  validity  or  pitch  soe'er — 
But  falls  into  abatement  and  low  price. 
The  order's  given  not  to  dare  the  people 
To  reap  the  harvest  which  the  ocean  scatters — 
From  true  reports  I  did  enquire  it  out, 
Though  I  as  well  might  stand  upon  the  beach 
And  bid  the  main  flood  'bate  his  usual  height; 
Or  yet  as  well  forbid  the  mountain  pines 
To  wag  their  high  tops  and  make  no  noise, 
When  they  are  fretted  with  the  gusts  of  heaven, 
As  ere  to  question  with  thee,  Anthony.' 

" '  It  cannot  be  denied  you  rightly  have 
Inform'd  us  sir  of  what  doth  stir  abroad  ; 

( ' But  I  invite  you  aboard  the  galley. 

Friends  he  doth  make  his  choice,  and  if  he  lose. 
Should  you  his  fortunes  make  a  stafi  to  lean  upon, 
You  do,  by  taking  the  same  course,  bereave 
Yourselves  of  my  good  purposes ;  and  know  you, 
All  bold  and  crafty  counsels  ever  are, 
Though  fair  in  promise,  hard  in  execution, 
And  in  their  issue  e'er  unfortunate.' 

"  'My  master  was  he,  whilst  he  stood  and  spoke. 

"'Know,  sir,  I  will  not  pinion'd  wait  at  court, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  445 

Nor  once  be  chastis'd  with  the  sober  eye 

Of  your  partner  in  this  cause  'gainst  my  peace. 

I  able  am  to  front  this  present  time, 

Till  which  encounter  'tis  my  business,  too. 

Pray  tell  the  Queen  the  vessel  I  now  keep, 

Awaiting  notice  of  the  fury  of  the  law 

The  meed  of  punishment  then  to  receive. 

Go  with  your  speediest,  and  what  she  says 

And  how  you  find  her,  bring  us  word  again. 

We  must  of  force  dispense  with  this  decree ; 

For  thou  dost  know  how  much  we  do  o'ercount  thee.' 

"'Indeed  you  do  o'ercount  me  of  thy  father's  house. 
But  what,  we're  friends?    I  do  beseech  you 
That  you  will  let  me  be  partaker,  too. 
If  it  must  needs  be  so,  Anthony,  I'll  help, 
And  now  most  apt  am  I  your  offer  to  embrace.' 

"  So  what  with  hope  of  good  and  hate  of  ill, 
He  me  persuaded  forth  with  them  to  fare ; 
Yet  I  do  blush  that  I  did  go  with  him. 

"'Follow  me  with  speed;  gladly  I  invite 
You,  too,  this  business  brief  in  hand  to  view. 
Would  it  please  you  to  carry  the  lantern? 
Surely  it  draweth  on  toward  midnight  now.' 

"While  Anthony,  and  we  in  company, 
Were  crossing  the  highway  hard  by  the  shore, 
To  a  full  stop  we  suddenly  all  came. 

"'List  what  noise?    Do  you  hear?  Is  it  not  strange? 
Come,  follow  it  so  far  as  we  have  quarter. 
We  will  be  still  till  that  we  do  discover 
Where  the  place  is  whence  these  sounds  do  put  forth. 
Be  not  afear'd,  the  isle  is  full  of  noise. 
Do  you  hear?     The  noise  is  going  away. 


446  The  Spanish  Armadn. 


Let's  follow  it,  and  after  to  our  work.' 

"This  luckless  chance  foretold  some  mischief  was  at 

hand, 

Yet  howso'er  it  hapt  I  cannot  tell. 
Soon  to  the  sea  we  came — the  sea  that  is 
A  world  of  waters  heaped  up  on  high. 
At  last  we  did  espy  the  cause,  for  near  the  shore, 
"Where  lay  the  same  ship,  rent  and  torn,  which  he  had 

found — 

I  put  the  case,  it  hath  an  owner  now, 
And  he  is  forc'd  the  burden  of  his  prize  to  stay. 
There  were  an  hundred  knights  of  that  array, 
Of  which  th'  one-half  stay'd  behind  to  guard  the  prize, 
Keeping  there  close  with  them  the  precious  store ; 
The  other  fifty  on  himself  did  wait, 
Whooping  and  hallowing  on  every  part, 
As  if  they  would  have  rent  the  brazen  skies, 
And  gathering  him  round  about  more  near, 
Their  direful  rancour  rather  did  increase, 
Like  heralds,  'twixt  two  dreadful  battles  set ; 
Their  passion  was  so  ripe  it  needs  must  break, 
I  scarce  could  shield  him  from  their  shrewish  blows, 
And  sure  their  looks  did  harbor  nought  but  death. 
Them  I  assail'd  with"  dreadless  hardiment 
With  arguments  alone  for  sword  and  shield. 

"Full  quickly  Anthony  did  understand 
That  all  this  expedition  held,  would  not 
Apply  the  finder's  turn  to  profit  his  estate. 
When  thus  he  saw  himself  reft  of  his  prize — 
The  wealth  one  moment  more  would  make  his  own — 
And  when  he  first  his  cause  of  grief  did  find, 
He  'gan  thus  'plain  his  case  with  words  unkind : — 


The  Spanish  Armada.  447 


" '  All  is  lost,  'tis  thou  that  hast  betray'd  me. 
Begone !    my  heart  makes  only  war  on  thee. 
Do  you  hear?    I  cannot  brook  these  injuries.' 

"  The  lanthorn's  fire  did  his  pale  face  display, 
For  as  he  spoke  his  visage  waxed  pale, 
And  change  of  hue  great  passion  did  betray, 
Yet  still  he  strove  to  cloak  his  inward  bale, 
Suspicion,  and  desire  to  wreak  revenge. 

"  'Alas,  my  fortunes  have  corrupted  honest  men  ! 
Fortune  and  Anthony  must  part  here,  even  here. 
Ah!  fatal  hap,  alas !  what  further  shall  I  say, 
Since  I  am  forc'd  to  break  mine  oath  with  you? 
Ah!  cruel  hap  of  fortune's  spite,  which  'sign'd 
This   luck   to   me !     Do  we  shake  hands  ?     All  come  to 
this?' 

"  He  hardly  did  give  audience  to  me. 

" '  Why,  look  you  how  you  storm.   I  would  be  friends 
And  you'll  not  hear  me ;  this  is  kind,  I  offer. 
Nay  then  I'm  gone,  alone  I  will  you  leave 
If  you  of  th'  fighter's  disposition  be ; 
For  this,  I'll  never  thy  pauld  fortune  follow  more.' 

"Alone  did  Anthony  but  sit  and  gaze 
And  sigh  his  soul  out,  toward  the  place,  where  lay 
The  ship  which  he  had  lost.     Indeed  I  would 
It  might  but  prove  the  end  of  all  his  loss ! 
But  experience,  manhood,  honour  ne'er  before, 
Alas,  did  eke  so  violate  itself. 

"From  thence,  forth  to  the  town  I  sadly  went 
And  reach'd  my  lodgings  long  ere  morning  dawn'd. 
Bat  ere  kind  sleep  had  visited  mine  eyes, 
I  heard  a  voice  without,  calling  my  name. 

"  <  Who  bids  thee  call  ?     I  did  not  bid  thee  call.' 


448  The  Spanish  Armada. 

"  *  Such  as  I  am,  I  come  from  Anthony. 
I  was  of  late  as  petty  to  his  ends, 
As  is  the  morn-dew  on  the  myrtle  leaf 
To  his  grand  sea.     To  the  sea-side  straightway, 
Sir,  I  beseech  you  go ;  Anthony  expects  you, 
And  said;  "Tell  him,  so  please  him,  come  at  once 
To  this  place  and  he  shall  be  satisfied.' " 

" '  Where  are  the  rest  ? ' 

"  'All  stay  and  wait  for  you.' 

"'To  him  again,     Tejl  him  he  wears  the  rose 
Of  youth  uponjiirn,  from  which  the  world  should  note 
Something  particular,  and  see  him  bear  the  palm. 
I'll  follow  soon  to  bear  him  company.' 

"As  I  approach'd  I  heard  Anthony  say: — 

" l  Has  my  brother  come  ? ' 

"'Thy  biddings  have  been  done.'     One  answered, 
'  He's  not  arriv'd  but  shortly  will  be  here.' 

" '  0,  but  I  fear !     How  lost  you  company  ? 
What,  is  he  far  behind?     Declare  with  speed, 
For  these  mine  eyes  do  long  his  face  to  view, 
Then  my  desire  were  fully  satisfied. 
O  how  the  hours  have  wrack'd  and  tortur'd  me, 
Since  I  have  lost  thee,  Francis  ! 
Nought,  nought,  all  nought,  I  can  behold  no  longer, 
Mine  eyes  are  blasted  with  the  sight.' 

"  I  find  the  riches  of  the  ship  have  come  on  shore, 
Yet  in  a  night  the  best  part  was  remov'd, 
Unwarily  devoured  by  the  floods; 
And  those  aboard  full  hardly  have  escap'd.' 

'"Ha!     what  things  are  these,  will  money  buy  em? 
How  have  you  made  division  Anthony  ? ' 
|     " '  Who  seeks  and  will  not  take  when  once  'tis  ofier'd, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  449 


Shall  never  ii;;<l  it  more,  though  he  should  kneel 
And  reason  his  petition  with  more  strength 
Than  hosts  of  men  could  lavish  in  a  life. 
Francis,  the  hearts  that  panell'd  me  at  heels, 
To  whom  I  gave  their  wishes  honourably, 
Do  melt  their  sweets  on  blossoming  Csesar, 
(For  like  to  Cflesar  do  they  hold  thee  brother,) 
And  this  tall  pine  that  overtopp'd  them  all, 
Is  barkt.     Francis,  I  am  betray'd,  and  fall 
Like  to  the  ruins  of  a  broken  tower.' 

"  'Anthony,  you  have  thy  father's  house. 
"Why  wail  as  at  a  woful  funeral 
When  thou  hast  all  this  power? 
But  yet  I  warn  thee  thou  hast  riot  the  force 
Eke  to  command  the  hasty  sun  to  stray, 
Or  backward  from  heaven's  height  to  turn  his  course. 
Go  hide  thy  head.     Fortune  hath  smit  thy  crest 
With  rigour  so  outrageous,  thou  must  see 
Thou  hast  been  much  to  blame. 
But  of  to-morrow  I  hope  well,  my  brother, 
And  I  will  lead  thee  to  victorious  life, 
Rather  than  to  disgrace  and  death.' 

'"Let's  to  breakfast,  come  and  drown  consideration.' 

"'No,  I'll  begone.     Gentle  adieux  I  bid  thee. 
I  must  to  London  in  the  early  morn, 
And  I  will  practice  thine  enlargement  thence.' 

"  Though  I  had  borne  all  with  a  patient  shrug, 
Yet  now  'twas  time  from  Anthony  to  depart, 
Nor  wait  to  see  how  Fortune  would  resolve 
Affairs  and  hazards  of  this  untrod  state. 
Go  with  me  in  my  writings  and  you'll  see, 
How  calm  and  gentle  I  proceeded  still ; 


450  The  Spanish  Armada. 


I  could  do  more  to  do  Anthony  good — 
Him  to  advise  and  not  his  humour  feed- 
But  'twould  offend  him,  and  in  his  offence, 
I  should  the  sooner  him  estrange  from  me, 
For  I  his  disposition  know  full  well. 

"  My  foster  brother  ne'er  did  urge  me  in  his  act; 
He  rather  did  discredit  my  authority, 
As  his  insinuations  did  express. 

"  Danger  chas'd  sleep  from  my  enthralled  eyes, 
And  made  them  watchers  of  my  own  heart's  griefs. 
But  ah!     who  can  deceive  his  destiny, 
Or  ween  by  warning  to  avoid  his  fate, 
That  when  he  sleeps  in  most  security, 
And  safest  seems,  him  soonest  doth  amate 
And  findeth  due  effect,  or  soon,  or  late  ? 
So  feeble  is  the  pow'r  of  fleshly  arm, 
He  is  not,  ah !  he  is  not  such  a  foe, 
As  steel  can  wound,  or  strength  can  overthrow. 
This  now  avails  for  making  me  full  sad, 
Yet  whence  should  come  the  harm  which  seems  to  threat  ? 
Must  not  the  world  wend  in  its  common  course  ? 
And  when  the  shining  sun  laugheth  once  more, 
The  heart  forgets  its  sorrow,  and  its  pain, 
Unless  it  sorrow  sought  through  wilfulness, 
And  would  its  pain  like  pelf  have  reckoned. 
Matter  of  mirth  enough  though  there  were  none, 
One  can  devise,  when  goodly  seeming  Day 
Smiles  in  his  face,  and  whispers  in  his  ear. 
A  thousand  ways  he  swiftly  can  invent, 
To  feed  his  foolish  humour  and  vain  jolliment. 

"  Thus  did  I  muse,  and  by  and  by,  my  steps 
Turned  to  the  shore,  where,  as  it  chauc'd  I  found 


The  Spanish  Armada. 


An  empty  fisher's  boat  upon  the  strand, 

Wherein  I  laid  me  down  with  sleep  o'ercast, 

And  straight  my  mind  disburden'd  of  all  care. 

And  soon  it  seem'd  the  boat  slipp'd  from  the  sands, 

And  then  did  lightly  float  on  the  dull  waves. 

Straightway,  the  nymphs  of  ocean  set  the  sails, 

And  bade  the  winged  vessel  forward  fly, 

Swift  on  its  way,  of  none  accompanied, 

Save  these  same  trusty  guides  that  led  me  forth, 

The  merry  mariners  of  Neptune's  seas. 

Methought  we  sped  as  swift  as  glance  of  eye, 

And  cut  the  waves  of  beauteous  opal  hue, 

Into  long  rows  of  glittering  shining  gems, 

Most  fit  to  deck  some  proud  Queen's  diadem. 

The  boat,  it  seem'd,  was  taught  the  way  to  go, 

And  wisely  save  itself  from  rocks  and  flats. 

And  soon  I  saw  'twas  also  trim  bedeck'd 

With  boughs  and  arbors  woven  cunningly, 

And  like  a  little  forest  seemed  outwardly, 

Where  the  small  birds,  in  the  wide  boughs  embow'riug, 

Chanted  their  sundry  tunes  with  sweet  content. 

The  little  bark  along  a  milk-white  way, 

Like  that  clear  silver  path  where  walk  the  gods, 

Pass'd  fairly  forth,  and  drew  at  length  to  land. 

There  I  was  met  by  one  of  mien  most  stern, 

Who  did  in  haste  approach  unto  the  shore, 

Drawn  on  with  coal  black  steeds,  foaming  and  fierce, 

In  stately  chariot  of  deep  device, 

Where  gloomy  Time  sat  whipping  on  the  team. 

A  plume,  as  black  as  is  the  raven's  wing, 

Back  from  his  helmet  floated  in  the  wind. 

I  could  not  have  withheld  my  hand,  e'en  had  I  wish'd 


452  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Though  it  did  tremble  like  a  leaf  of  aspen  green, 

As  t  gave  it  into  his  icy  palm. 

What  man  is  he  that  boasts  of  fleshly  might, 

And  vain  assurance  of  mortality? 

When  he,  through  grace,  hath  gained  victory, 

Ne  let  him  then  ascribe  it  to  his  skill. 

"  "Without  constraint  I  stept  into  the  place 
Left  vacant  at  his  side,  and  forth  we  far'd. 
Long  travel'd  on,  through  wide  and  wasteful  ground, 
That  all  around  show'd  naught  but  wilderness, 
And  came  at  last  unto  a  gloomy  glade, 
Cover'd  with  boughs  and  shrubs  from  heaven's  light ; 
Whereas  we  sitting  found,  in  secret  shade, 
An  uncouth  savage,  an  uncivil  wight ; 
His  head  and  beard  with  soot  were  ill  bedight ; 
His  coal-black  hands  did  seem  to  have  been  sear'd 
In  smith's  fire-spitting  forge ;  his  nails  were  claws  ; 
His  iron  coat  appeared  to  have  been,  of  old, 
A  work  of  rich  entayle,  and  curious  mould, 
Woven  with  antics  and  wild  imagery  ; 
And  in  his  lap,  a  mass  of  coin  he  told, 
And  turned  upside  down  to  feed  his  eye 
And  covetous  desire  with  his  huge  treasury  ; 
Some  were  round  plates,  withouten  moniment, 
But  most  were  stamp'd,  and  in  their  metal  bare 
The  antique  shapes  of  kings  and  kaisers  gone. 
Soon  as  he  saw  my  face,  in  great  affright 
And  haste,  he  rose  for  to  remove  aside 
Those  precious  hills,  from  stranger's  envious  sight, 
And  down  them  poured,  through  an  hole  full  wide, 
Into  the  hollow  earth,  them  there  to  hide. 

"  '  Who  art  thou  ? '     asked  he  in  loud  alarm, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  453 


'That  darest  view  my  direful  countenance? 
I  read  thee  rash  and  heedless  of  thyself, 
To  trouble  rny  still  seat  and  heaps  of  gold. 
And  yet,  if  me  thou  deign  to  serve  and  sue, 
At  thy  command,  lo,  all  these  mountains  be. 
Or,  if  to  thy  great  mind  or  greedy  view, 
All  these  may  not  suffice,  there  shall  to  thee 
Ten  times  so  much  be  number'd  frank  and  free.' 

" '  What  art  thou,  man  (if  man  at  all  thou  art) 
That  here  in  desert  hast  thine  habitance, 
And  these  rich  heaps  of  wealth  dost  hide  apart 
From  the  world's  eye  and  from  her  light  usance  ? 
What  is  this  palace  great  wherein  I  stand  ? ' 

"  *  This  is  the  House  of  Riches,  and  vain  man, 
I  Mammon  am,  the  god  of  greatest  power 
That  reigneth  in  the  realm  beneath  the  sun.' 

"'Mammon,'  said  I,  'thy  godhead's  vaunt  is  vain, 
And  idle  offers  of  thy  golden  fee. 
To  them  that  covet  such  eye-glutting  gain 
Proffer  thy  gifts,  and  fitter  servants  seek, 
Ne  thine  be  kingdoms,  ne  the  sceptre  thine, 
But  realms  and  rulers  thou  dost  both  confound, 
And  loyal  truth  to  treason  doth  incline. 
Witness  the  guiltless  blood  pour'd  oft  on  ground, 
The  crowned  often  slain,  the  slayers  crown 'd, 
The  sacred  diadem  in  pieces  rent, 
And  purple  robe  gored  with  many  a  wound, 
Castles  surpris'd,  great  cities  sack'd  and  brent, 
So  mak'st  thou  kings  and  gainest  government. 
What  secret  place,  indeed,  can  safely  hold 
So  huge  a  mass,  and  hide  from  Heaven's  eye? 
Or  where  hast  thou  thy  wonne,  that  so  much  gold 


454  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Thou  canst  preserve  from  wrong  and  robbery  ? ' 

"<  Come  thou,'  quoth  he,  'and  see.'    So,  by  and  by, 
Through  that  thick  covert,  he  me  led,  and  found 
A  darksome  way  which  no  man  could  descry, 
That  deep  descended  through  the  hollow  ground, 
And  was  with  dread  and  horror  compass'd  round. 
At  length,  we  came  into  a  larger  space, 
That  stretch'd  itself  into  an  ample  plain, 
Through  which  a  beaten,  broad  highway  did  trace, 
That  straight  did  lead  to  Pluto's  grisly  realm. 
By  that  way's  side,  there  sat  infernal  Pain, 
And,  fast  beside  him,  sat  tumultuous  Strife  ; 
The  one,  in  hand,  an  iron  whip  did  strain ; 
The  other,  brandished  a  bloody  knife, 
And  both  did  gnash  their  teeth,  and  threaten  life. 
On  th'  other  side,  in  one  consort  there  sate 
Cruel  Revenge,  and  rancorous  Despight, 
Disloyal  Treason,  and  heart-burning  Hate ; 
He  brought  me  through  a  darksome  narrow  strait 
To  a  broad  gate,  all  built  of  beaten  gold. 
The  gate  was  open,  and  we  enter'd  in 
A  room  so  large,  and  wide,  as  'twere  some  guild, 
Or  solemn  temple  of  an  ancient  feiith. 
Many  great,  golden  pillars  did  upbear 
The  massy  roof,  and  riches  huge  sustain; 
And  every  pillar  decked  was,  full  dear, 
With  crowns  and  diadems  and  titles  vain, 
Which  mortal  princes  wore  while  on  the  earth. 

"  Just  then  I  woke,  the  sun  was  shining  high, 
My  boat  still  lay  upon  the  sands,  quite  dry, 
And  much  I  doubt  it  had  not  broke  the  waves, 
Or  floated  out  upon  the  lazy  tide, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  455 


Save  in  the  dream  that  so  deceiv'd  the  sense, 

Nor  had  I  seen,  indeed,  with  mortal  eve, 

Great  Mammon — god  o'  th'  world  and  worldling,  aye, 

To  whom  he  is  the  greatest  'neath  the  sky. 

"A  reaching  thought  will  search  his  deepest  wits, 
And  cast  with  cunning,  for  the  time  to  come. 
For  evils  are  apt  to  happen  every  day, 
And  ever  seem  to  walk  abroad  o'  nights. 
Should  I  take  counsel  of  this  troublous  dream? 
Do  Pluto's  bells  ring  out  my  fatal  knell, 
And  hags  howl  for  my  death  at  Charon's  shore? 
My  thoughts  are  martyr'd  with  endless  torments, 
And,  in  this  torment,  comfort  find  I  none, 
But  that  my  head  may  one  day  wear  the  crown, 
And  that  I,  yet,  may  be  fair  England's  king. 
But  I  bethought  me  of  the  duty  due 
Unto  my  country  that  I've  ever  lov'd, 
And  then,  at  once,  were  all  my  thoughts  and  cares 
Concerning  th'  general  good  thereof — 
Beyond  and  over  and  above  my  place — 
And  my  own  interests  were  all  forgot. 
Another  bliss  before  my  eyes  T  plac'd, 
•Another  happiness,  another  end. 
It  often  falls,  in  course  of  common  life, 
That  right,  long  time  is  overborne  of  wrong, 
Through  avarice,  or  power,  or  guile,  or  strife, 
But  man  must  keep  in  mind,  what  to  his  country's  owed. 
I  would  not  that  the  people  of  this  blessed  land, 
Be  punish'd  with  my  ever  thwarting  stars. 
The  Queen  is  fortunate  in  all  her  deeds, 
She  hath,  indeed,  been  famed  for  virtues, 
And  still  may  seem  as  wise  as  virtuous, 


456  The  Spanish  Armada. 

By  spying  and  avoiding  Fortune's  wiles. 
Thus  far  her  fortune  keeps  an  upward  course, 
And  she  with  wreaths  of  victory  is  grac'd. 
And  I  may  conquer  yet,  by  living  low, 
Where  Fortune  cannot  hurt  me  if  she  would. 

" '  What  noise  is  this  I  hear  ? '  I  ask'd  myself, 
And,  like  an  answer,  *  Westward  ho! '  I  heard. 
It  was  the  watermen  upon  the  shore, 
That  call'd  for  passengers  who'd  westward  go. 
It  fitted  well  my  turn,  and  I  resolv'd 
Straight  with  them  up  to  London  I  would  fare, 
And  to  the  court  proceed  without  delay. 
There  could  I  wait  till  that  my  friend  should  come, 
And  then  could  shortly  learn  what  I  would  know. 
It  seem'd  a  goodly  leading  and  I  follow'd  it. 
The  barge  convey'd  a  silly  company  of  poor  souls, 
All  cluttered  together  side  by  side, 
Like  so  many  dull  pebbles  in  the  tide. 
Averse  from  company,  I  walk'd  alone, 
And  listen'd  to  the  voices,  which  proceed 
Ah,  who  shall  say  from  whence  ?     The  Holy  Ghost 
Plays  on  our  hearts  like  so  many  harp  strings. 
We  are  His  temples,  He  dwelleth  in  us 
And  we  in  Him.     The  light  of  life  itself 
Goes  with  us  where  we  go,  and  doth  abide 
Forever  in  the  hearts  of  simple  men — 
Immortal,  incorrnpted  and  divine. 
It  tutors  us  e'en  in  our  vainer  hours. 
Now,  as  I  sat  alone,  sad,  serious, 
And  full  of  thoughts  and  secret  observations, 
It  did  the  passions  of  my  heart  suppress, 
And  then,  with  mastering  discipline,  did  tame 


The  Spanish  Armada.  457 


The  spirit  in  me  that  had  wildly  warr'd. 
And  so  bestirr'd  me  even  m  my  sleep. 
It  made  within  my  heart,  from  that  time  forth, 
A  purer  virtue  and  a  richer  honour, 
As,  in  the  veins  of  earth,  the  parching  sun 
Doth  gold  and  glittering  minerals  create. 
For,  through  infusion  of  celestial  power, 
The  duller  earth  it  quick'neth  with  delight, 
And  lifeful  spirits  privily  doth  pour, 
Into  the  inner  recess  of  the  heart, 
And  there,  as  every  earthly  thing  partakes, 
Or  more  or  less  of  influence  divine, 
So  it  more  fair  accordingly  it  makes, 
And  the  gross  matter  of  this  earthly  mine, 
Which  clothed  it,  thereafter  doth  refine, 
Doing  away  the  dross,  which  dims  the  light 
Of  that  fair  being,  which  is  therein  empright. 
"  On  did  we  glide  upon  the  waters  strong, 
That  day  by  day  roll  to  salute  the  sea, 
And  part  on  either  sides,  with  pleasant  floods 
The  meads  so  fragrant,  and  the  marshes  low. 
Sleeping  or  waking,  as  alone  I  lay, 
Mine  eyes,  and  ears,  and  senses  all,  were  serv'd 
With  every  object,  perfect  in  its  kind, 
And  lo,  a  wonder  to  my  senses  all ! 
Hyperion,  throwing  forth  his  beams  full  hot, 
Into  the  highest  top  of  heaven  'gan  climb, 
And  the  world  parting,  by  an  equal  lot, 
Did  shed  his  whirling  flames  both  far  and  wide, 
To  the  horizon's  most  remotest  bound, 
Which  lay,  a  circlet  plain  to  any  eye, 
As  'twere  the  marriage  ring  of  Earth  most  fair, 


458  The  Spanish  Armada. 


When  she  that  day  became  the  bride  of  Heaven. 

I  look'd  to  see  if  Cupid's  self  did  trip 

Nimbly  o'  top  o'  th'  waters,  strewing  flowers, 

While  Venus  follow'd  smiling  looking  on, 

As  proud  as  Juno  with  Heaven's  diadem ; 

Both  messengers  from  the  high  courts  of  Love, 

That  summon  souls  unto  the  bridal  feast, 

Where  Phoebus'  self,  that  god  of  poets'  hight, 

They  say  did  sing  the  spousal  hymn  so  clear, 

That  all  the  gods  were  ravish'd  with  delight 

Of  his  celestial  song,  and  music's  might ; 

And  eke  the  Graces  seemed  all  to  sing, 

The  whiles  sweet  Zephyrus  loud  whistled 

His  treble,  a  strange  kind  of  harmony; 

Hymen,  lo  Hymen,  dancing  all  around, 

His  silver  harp  in  hand,  gently  let  fall 

Celestial  notes,  that  did  all  other  pass, 

And  from  the  woods  their  echo  did  rebound, 

The  silver  sounding  instruments  to  meet; 

And  many  Muses  and  fair  Nymphs,  meseem'd, 

Did  sweetly  in  accord  then  tune  their  voice 

To  the  soft  sounding  of  the  water's  fall, 

And  with  their  music  ravish'd  mine  ears, 

But  did  endue  them  to  a  sense  of  pain, 

For  men,  indeed,  are  not  Olympian  gods, 

And  we  must  look  unto  Love's  votaries, 

For  such  observancie  as  fits,  full  well, 

This  bridal  scene,  and  these,  Earth's  nuptial  rites. 

"  Thus  on  the  pleasant  Thames  we  glide  along, 
To  that  brave  bridge,  the  bar  that  thwarts  our  course. 
And  straight,  without  retention  or  restraint, 
With  honest  care  of  that  poor  Spaniard's  hap, 


The  *S/.(7/(/.v/(   Armadii.  459 


And  for  his  sake,  I  hie  into  the  town, 
And  go  at  once  to  seek  out  our  fair  Queen, 
Whose  sight  my  heart  doth  ever  joyful  make. 

••  My  tributary  tears  low  at  her  feet, 
T  render;  tears  of  joy  for  my  return 
Meseem'd  she  shed,  in  these  consorting  greets. 

"'  "Welcome  my  friend,'  she  said  most  graciously, 
*  Tt  yields  me  joy  seeing  thy  safe  return. 
Bacon,  thou  hast  again  fair  England  honoured.' 

"  Then  with  right  humhle  thanks  for  greeting  kind, 
And  all  her  favors  royally  bestow'd, 
While  in  her  gracious  presence  I  did  kneel, 
I  humbly  'gan  that  mighty  Queen  entreat 
To  give  me  audience  of  a  half  hour's  space ; 
I  said  :   *  May  it  please  your  Majesty  to  give 
Leave  unto  me  to  speak  of  my  adventure, 
And  wilt  thou  read  the  letters  I  have  brought?' 

"  <  Declare  with  speed  what  tidings  you  do  bring. 
Tell  me  this  instant  what  full  accomplished  is.' 

"  Straight  from  my  mind  all  care  I  banished, 
And  spoke  at  her  command  without  persuade  : — 

" '  In  spite  of  Spain  and  all  the  popish  pow'r, 
That  wrongfully  would  wrest  from  thee  the  crown, 
The  fingers  of  the  Powers  above  do  tune 
The  harmony  of  thy  peace,  most  gracious  Queen. 
False-hearted  Philip  sees  now  to  his  cost, 

The  heavens  have  laid  on  him  most  heavy  hand, 

«i        i 

While  ruthless  Drake  pursues  him  at  the  heels, 
And  comes  amain  to  put  him  to  the  sword.' 

" '  Ha!  ha!     We'll  make  him   eat   his  words.     He 

swore : — 
"  I  fear  no  woman  though  ten  times  a  Queen, 


4»;o  The  Spanish  Arm,i<l<i. 


And  while  I  live  I'll  never  fly  from  man." 

Bacon,  alas,  I  see  my  oversight — 

I  see  his  treachery.     Warn'd  to  beware 

A  face  so  full  of  fraud  and  villainy 

Was  I.     I  held  it  but  superfluous, 

And  likewise  did  think  fit  Philip  should  be 

Propitiated,  that  we  eke  might  be 

Still  equal  friends;  but  when  he  sought  my  hand, 

'Twas  as  true  lover  of  the  Holy  Church, 

And  for  her  sake,  not  with  affection  honest 

Unto  ourself.     With  senses  unimpair'd, 

And  mind  well  purg'd,  myself  I  did  apply 

To  study  of  the  matter,  to  unfold 

The  plan  of  the  bold  king,  a  month  agone. 

His  part  I  did  discover,  'pon  my  soul, 

And  may  I  never  pass  the  river  Styx 

Till  I  avenged  be  on  his  curs'd  name. 

Love's  conquest  ends,  good  sir,  in  courtesy ; 

But  he  staid  not  an  answer  to  devise, 

So  that  it  eke  should  suit  mine  ear,  indeed, 

Nor  sought  all  means  my  mind  to  please, 

As  were  most  fit,  and  would  full  well  become 

His  oath  of  wedded  loyalty  unto  ourself, 

The  which  he  fain  would  swear.     Sir,  by  my  head, 

It  is  the  kingdom,  merely,  he  doth  want, 

As  kind  of  supplement  unto  his  power. 

He  fain  had  brought  us  now  in  servile  bond, 

And  made  us  bear  the  yoke  of -Inquisition. 

His  unjust  diligence  most  happily,  • 

Drew  on  himself  just  danger  and  dishonour; 

For  when  he  saw  and  heard  his  doom  aright, 

Straightway  all  mad  and  furious  he  grew, 


Tin    Spanish  Armada.  4(Jl 


Like  a  fine  mastiff' through  enraging  heat. 
Then,  when  our  doubty  new  Vice-Admiral 
Shut  up  his  havens,  marr'd  his  merchants' trade, 
And  robb'd  his  people  that  full  rich  had  been, 
He  could  not  choose  but,  in  God's  name,  send  forth 
His  mighty  fleet  unto  this  enterprise.' 

" '  'Tis  certain  he  hath  met  his  ancient  foe, 
A  man  valiant  as  was  Mark  Anthony, 
I'm  sure,  albeit  he  is  held,  I  think, 
A  man  of  no  estimation  i'  the  world. 
And  I  did  see  him  do  as  gallant  service 
As  doth  beseem  great  princes,  lords  and  kings, 
When  those  great  ships  came  sweeping  through  our  seas 
With  pennons  painted  in  the  blood  of  war. 
E'en  whiles  thy  cool  and  temperate  wind  of  grace 
O'erblew  the  filthy  and  contagious  clouds 
Of  deadly  murder,  spoil  and  villainy. 
In  any  moment  did  I  look  to  see 
The  blind  and  bloody  soldiers,  with  foul  hand, 
Desire  the  locks  of  England's  shrieking  daughters; 
The  fathers  taken  by  their  silver  beards, 
And  their  most  reverend  heads  dash't  to  the  walls ; 
The  naked  infants  spitted  upon  pikes, 
Whiles  the  mad  mothers,  with  their  howls  confus'd, 
To  stay  their  cruel  hands  from  slaughter  fell, 
Should  break  the  clouds,  as  did  the  wives  of  Jewry, 
When  Herod's  bloody  hunting  slaughter-men 
Did  put  their  new-born  children  to  the  sword. 
Sorry  was  I  our  numbers  were  so  few, 
But  they  did  rush  as  sudden  on  his  hosts, 
As  doth  the  melted  snow  upon  the  valleys. 
He  may  as  bootless  spend  his  vain  command, 


462  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Upon  his  soldiers  in  their  headlong  flight, 
Who  dropt  their  hearts  into  the  sink  of  fear, 
As  precepts  send  to  the  Leviathan 
To  come  ashore  and  e'er  be  rul'd  by  him. 
Now  in  this  bloody  brunt,  he  may  behold 
The  sole  endeavor  of  thy  princely  care, 
To  plant  the  true  succession  of  the  faith, 
In  spite  of  Spain  and  all  his  heresies.' 

"'Have  you  ta'en  arms  against  the  Spanish  King?' 

" '  "What  need  I  ?     God  Himself  is  up  in  arms, 
When  violence  is  offer'd  to  the  Church. 
We  were  not  suffer' d  to  conclude  the  cause, 
And  this,  to  me,  most  egal  doom  appears — 
The  secret  judgments  that  the  heavens  impos'd, 
Upon  the  drooping  state  of  priest-rid  Spain. 
No  natural  exhalation  in  the  sky, 
No  scope  of  nature,  no  distemper'd  day, 
No  common  wind,  no  'customed  event 
Were  these,  but  presages  and  tongues  of  heaven, 
Plainly  denouncing  vengeance  on  the  king. 
He  reaps  as  he  has  sown,  the  whirlwind's  force, 
In  that  world's  wounded  part,  whose  waves  yet  swell 
With  everlasting  showers  of  tears  that  fell, 
And  bosoms  bleed  with  great  effuse  of  blood.' 

"'Aye,  but  you  see  the  harvest  is  far  off. 
And  yet  I  know  the  prayers  of  those  nuns 
And  holy  friars,  having  money  for  their  pains, 
Are  not  wonderous  and,  indeed,  do  no  man  good. 
And  seeing  they're  not  idle,  but  still  doing, 
'Tis  likely  they  in  time  may  reap  some  fruit, 
I  mean,  in  fulness  of  perfection.' 

" « 'Tis  well  you  have  an  officer,  brave,  and  bold 


The  Spanish  Armada.  463 


Of  wit  and  manhood,  gallant,  gay,  whose  fame 
Spreads  by  the  gates  of  Europe,  to  the  Courts 
Of  Christian  kings  and  heathen  potentates. 
For  sooth  he  is  for  warlike  feats  renovvn'd 
From  where  the  day  out  of  the  sea  doth  spring, 
To  where  the  sun  doth  settle  in  his  wain. 
And  though  his  actions  are  not  visible  to  you, 
Report  should  hourly  render  him  unto  your  ear, 
As  truly,  as  when  by  your  eye  perceiv'd, 
Or  else  you  never  will  be  well  iuform'd, 
I  fear,  of  things  most  worthy  to  be  known. 
For  he  as  far  surpasseth  other  men 
As  greatest  does  the  least  in  every  way.' 

'"Better  to  leave  undone,  than  by  his  deed, 
Acquire  too  high  a  fame  when  him  he  serves  's  away.' 

" '  Caesar  and  Anthony  did  ever  win 
More  in  their  officers  than  in  person.' 

" '  Who  does  i'  th'  wars  more  than  his  captain  can, 
Becomes  his  captain's  captain,  and  ambition 
(The  soldier's  virtue)  rather  maketh  choice 
Of  loss,  than  gain  which  darkens  him  he  serves. 
And  you  shall  find  the  band  that  seems  to  tie 
Their  friendship  thus  together,  e'er  will  be 
The  very  strangler  of  their  amity.' 

"''Tis  hard  that  thus  a  master's  favor's  lost 
For  quick  accumulation  of  renown, 
Which  one  achiev'd  by  th'  minute,  for  his  Queen. 
It  raises  a  great  war,  indeed,  'twixt  him 
And  his  discretion.     If  this  it  is 
To  have  a  name  in  great  men's  fellowship, 
I  had  as  live  have  but  a  simple  reed. 
I  never  hated  him,  but  I  have  seen,  him  fight 


464  The  Spanish  Armada. 


When  I  have  envied  his  behaviour  much.' 

"'I  never  lov'd  him  much,  but  I  have  prais'd  him/ 

"*  When  he  has  well  deserv'd  ten  times  as  much 
As  you  have  said,  my  gracious  Sovereign.' 

"'Thy  plainness  nothing  ill  becomes  thee,  sir. 
He  has  done  well  by  water,  it  is  true, 
And  yet,  I  think,  it  cannot  be  denied 
That  he  hath  been  a  great  thief  by  the  sea." 

"  '  It  may  be  true — I  can't  deny  it  is; 
But  if  our  eyes  had  the  authority, 
They  might  take  many  thieves  by  land  and  sea 
Other  than  he.     I  feel  a  kind  of  scorn 
Heroical,  when  rudely  one  assails 
A  man,  whose  valiance  as  greatly  overpeers 
Hie  fellows'  as  the  pine  the  creeping  weed. 
I  tell  you,  plainly,  England  never  bred 
A  better  soldier  than  this  doughty  man, 
And  that,  bold  Philip  and  his  army  felt, 
In  this  encounter  in  our  border  seas, 
When  he  did  all  the  others  far  excel.' 

" '  His  virtues  in  your  speech  double  and  treble, 
But  you  have  sung  his  praises  long  enough. 
These  lines,  my  friend,  writ  in  extremity, 
Contain  a  plea  for  one  who'd  re-obtain 
His  place  and  fortune  at  the  Spanish  court, 
Through  interchange  of  prisoners.     This  doth 
Import  a  princely  favor  at  our  hands, 
What  is  it  you  would  say  of  this,  my  friend? 
For  in  these  lines,  marry,  your  name  is  writ.' 

"'  He  is  my  prisoner,  most  gracious  Queen, 
Not  for  requital  of  honourable  arms, 
Nor  prize  that's  gotten  in  the  champion  field — 


The  Spanish  Armada.  465 

Not  one  of  these,  indeed,  nor  to  be  nam'd 

With  sound  of  trumpet  and  parading  great. 

I  sav'd  his  life  at  sea  in  the  great  storm, 

And  here  I  humbly  vow,  your  Majesty, 

Wholly  to  yield  and  to  surrender  up 

Into  thy  worthy  hands  this  princely  gift, 

As  erst  he  was  to  me  by  fate  assign'd, 

And  left  in  charge  with  me  by  heavenly  favor. 

Our  duties  are  unto  thy  throne  and  state, 

Therefore  to  thee  I  yield  him  prisoner, 

And  in  thy  hand,  dear  Queen,  his  life  is  gag'd. 

We  know  that  mercy  is  the  mighty's  jewel, 

And  greater  glory  'tis  to  save  than  kill. 

Thou  art  Brittania's  Atlas,  star  of  England's  globe, 

That  sways  the  massy  sceptre  of  her  land, 

And  holds  the  royal  reins  of  Albion, 

For  my  beloved  country's  constant  good. 

Th'  advantage  of  the  time  prompts  me  to  call, 

In  way  of  taste,  now  for  some  benefit 

Out  of  those  many  register'd  in  promise, 

Which  live  to  come,  thou  say'st,  in  my  behalf. 

I  do  desire  the  freedom  of  this  man/ 

" ' Content,  content,  0  sir,  you  are  not  right! 
Can  you  translate  his  malice  towards  us  into  love? ' 

" '  I  do  but  partly  know,  I  hope  I  shall — 
The  end's  not  yet.     When  thou  behold'st  the  man, 
Thou  shalt  perceive  whether  or  no  he's  worthy. 
More  goodly  creature  never  didst  thou  see; 
So  like  a  giant  in  each  manly  part; 
Bears  he  himself  with  such  portly  majesty 
That  one  of  th'  old  heroes  he  seems  to  be.' 

" l  Though  he  were  sprung  from  some  celestial  race, 


466  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Yet  would  I  tear  his  eyes  fro'  forth  his  head, 
And  feast  the  birds  with  their  blood-shotten  balls.' 

" '  Is  this  then  all  the  thanks  that  I  shall  have 
For  saving  him  from  drowning  in  the  sea?' 
If  this  be  all  th'  respect,  reward  and  honour, 
I  wish  that  I  had  never  wrong'd  him  so ; 
Most  cruel  hate  had  no  worse  bondage  brought. 
Faith,  'twere  more  honour  to  have  let  him  die, 
And  this  doth  all  mine  other  deeds  deface. 
Shall  it  for  shame  be  spoken  in  these  days, 
Or  fill  up  chronicles  of  time  to  come  ? ' 

" '  Well  worthy  he  to  taste  of  wretchedness.' 

"  Sith  pleasing  words  are  like  the  magic  art, 
That  doth  the  charmed  snake  in  slumber  lay, 
So  I  to  her  reveal'd  in  mirror  plain, 
Milder  behaviour  and  a  better  deed. 
And  in  conclusion  of  my  speech  I  said  : — 

"  Then,  whilst  the  Fates  afford  me  vital  breath, 
I  will  spend  it  in  speaking  of  thy  praise, 
And  sing  to  thee  until  that  timely  death, 
By  heaven's  doom  doth  end  my  earthly  days.' 

"'Away,  and  let  me  hear  no  more  of  this! 
If  thou  dost  bend,  and  pray,  and  fawn,  for  him 
'Twill  not  avail,  so  be  thou  satisfied.' 

"Sbj^swore  as  many  oaths  as  I  spake  words. 
But  when  she  chang'd  thatthreatful  mood,  I  'gun  entreat: 

"  *  You  are  not  wood,  you  are  not  stone  ;  O  list ! 
And  let  your  heart  with  pity  now  be  mov'd. 
'Tis  laudable  and  fit.     It  is  the  nature 
And  essence  of  authority  itself, 
It  is  imputed  for  an  honour  too, 
As  well  as  great  advancement  of  the  state 


The  Spanish  Arm  4li7 

And  majesty  of  royal  sovereigns.' 

u '  0  man,  thine  art  can  well  do  everything, 

That  can  be  done  by  art  and  human  means ! 

Whatever,  then,  it  faileth  to  attain, 

I  do  declare  is  quite  impossible 

Of  attainment,  save  by  subtle  artifice.' 

"  *  Then  rather  lay  the  blame  upon  Nature, 

For  how  can  art  be  guilty  found,  I  pray, 

"When  she  is  ever  judge  of  her  own  cause?' 
"'This  is  a  goodly  stratagem,  in  truth, 

Yet  will  I  not  suffer  it  to  produce 

Any  effect  upon  my  unaided  judgment. 

Come  here  to-morrow,  speak  before  my  counsellors. 

Thou  shalt  be  given  audience  of  them 

Who  can  judge  well  of  consequences  grave, 

And,  by  examination  timely,  smother 

The  mischief  that  this  action  may  bring  forth. 

Dost  thou  attend  me,  sir?' 
"'Most  needfully, 

Bear  witness  God,  of  my  unfeigned  zeal, 

And  well  assure  me  of  a  kind  success.' 

" '  Nay,  say  no  more,  'tis  a  vain  thing,  my  friend. 

Come  while  on  us  the  early  morning  breathes 

With  panting  horses.     We  will  hear  thee  then.' 

"'Thanks,  gracious  Queen,  I  will  return  at  morn.' 
"'  Fare  well  then  till  tomorrow,  faithful  sir.' 
"'Farewell,  the  heavens  remain  thy  happy  shield.' 
"  I  did  acquit  myself  in  that  high  speech 

So  well,  with  spurs  and  bridle  so  control 

My  thoughts,  it  straightway  did  occur  to  me, 

The  Queen  relaxed  something  in  respect 

Of  the  cold  disposition  she  had  held 


468  The  Spanish  Armada. 


With  equable  and  perfect  constancy ; 

And  on  the  other  hand  seem'd  not  averse, 

To  listen  to  free  explication  now. 

Discarding,  prompt,  logical  subtleties, 

That  from  herself,  unwares,  her  to  beguile 

I  erst  had  sought,  I  back  return'd  and  'gan 

Again,  with  more  acuteness,  then  to  speak; 

But  still,  with  equal  pertinacity 

Unto  the  purpose  whereof  I  had  come. 
/)  My  powers  were  crescent,  and  my  auguring  hope 
!'  Said  it  would  shortly  come  into  the  full, 

And  let  me  in  this  enterprise  prevail. 

"'I  like  your  well  determin'd  mind,'  quoth  she> 

'And  these  high  strains  of  eloquence  do  work 

Some  to  aches  of  remorse,  now  in  my  soul. 

My  will,  enkindl'd  by  mine  eyes  and  ears — 

Two  traded  pilots — 'twixt  the  dangerous  shores 

Of  will  and  judgment  steers. 

May  love  forbid,  my  sou, 

There  should  be  any  quarrel  'twixt  us  now. 

But  is  there  not,  and  will  there  never  be, 

An  end  or  limit  to  this  business? 

'Tis  plain  to  see  that  our  posterity 

Do  wish  to  be  e'en  greater  than  ourselves. 

These  higher  wits  would  other  worlds  create, 

Direct  their  course,  o'er  nature  domineer, 

Nor  is  it  quite  unlikely  to  my  mind, 

That  th'  authority  we  have  impos'd, 

Hath  wearisome  become  unto  the  young. 

Vanity  and  license  they  would  have — 

Throw  all  approv'd  opinions  to  the  wind  ; 

Make  bold  to  ask  us  to  give  up,  withal, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  •  469 


On  their  own  terms  of  base  compulsion, 
Invented  systems  of  the  universe, 
And  institutions  of  the  present  time, 
While,  in  exchange,  they  do  acceptance  crave 
Of  all  those  new  inventions,  theories, 
Those  silly  arts  and  sciences,  in  truth, 
That  have  restrain'd  all  former  learning, 
And  much  conjecture  in  our  minds  instilPd. 
For  pure  and  open  light,  sure,  there  is  none 
On  subjects  of  philosophy,  as  well 
As  Nature's  ever  new  phenomena.' 

"'You  undergo  too  strict  a  paradox, 
"Which  doth  preclude  all  prospect  of  improvement.' 

"'  This  is  a  subject  past  the  depth  of  those 
That,  without  heed,  do  plunge  into  it,  sir. 
No- marvel,  then,  their  hearts  should  faint  and  quail, 
When  he  that  entereth  far,  sinketh  so  deep. 
Those  that  succeed  are  like  unto  ourselves — 
Of  the  same  nature,  for  we  daily  die, 
And  as  others  to  us  have  given  place, 
So  we  must,  in  the  end,  to  others  give  way. 
Knowledge,  said  Plato,  but  remembrance  is, 
And  Solomon,  as  well,  his  sentence  gives, 
That  there  is  no  new  thing  upon  the  earth, 
And  that  all  novelty  is  but  oblivion.' 

"'But  mighty  is  the  truth  and  will  prevail; 
So  far  as  doth  the  daughter  of  the  Day 
All  other  lesser  lights,  in  light  excel, 
So  far  doth  she,  plac'd  in  the  firmament, 
Through  the  bright  heaven  her  beauteous  beams  display. 
Much  more  there  is  unkenn'd  than  thou  dost  con, 
And  from  men's  knowledge  lurk  much  more  than's  known.' 


470  The  Spanish  Armada. 


"'  How  hast  thou  purchas'd  this  experience 
And  grace  of  speech  as  well,  in  such  short  time  ? ' 

"'  How?    By  my  pen  of  observation,  Madam. 
Substance  of  matter  better  is,  by  far, 
Than  beauty  fair  of  words;  contrariwise 
Much  worse  is  matter  vain,  than  are  vain  words.' 

"'And  useless  speculations,  though  scholastic, 
Are  like  the  Olympic  gamesters,  who  abstain'd 
From  needful  labors,  that  they  might  be  fit 
For  such  as  were  not  so.     Thine  answer's  good.' 

"'  Think'st  thou  there  was  a  time    in  the    world's 

history, 

When  all  lov'd  virtue ;  no  man  was  afraid 
Of  force ;  ne  fraud  in  wight  was  to  be  found  ; 
No  war  was  known,  no  dreadful  trumpet  sound  ; 
Peace  universal  reign'd  'mougst  men  and  beasts  ; 
And  all  things  freely  grew  out  of  the  ground  ; 
Justice  sate  high,  ador'd  with  solemn  feasts, 
And  to  all  people  did  divide  her  bests? 
f  daily  do  devise  experiments, 
To  bring  about  conditions,  requisite 
;  For  such  a  blessed  state  of  unity, 
For  simple  men  o'erthrown  by  Fortune's  spite.' 

" '  I  like  not  well,  fair  sir,  the  influence 
Of  common  notions  such  as  these,  in  faith, 
With  which  thou  hast  their  imaginations 
Infected,  in  so  far  they  will  attend 
Neither  to  work,  nor  claims  of  family. 
And  presently,  they  may  the  purpose  take, 
Even  to  leave  this  war,  and  follow  you. 
Designments  such  as  these,  appear  to  me 
Proportioned  for  former  days ;  they've  been 


The  Spanish  Armada.  471 

Long  time  quite  out  of  use,  and  well  at  rest.' 

"  '  In  my  opinion,  'tis  of  special  praise 
That  one  hath  labor'd  to  restore  the  good, 
And  demonstrate  to  what  high  points  may  be 
Moulded  or  wrought,  the  nature  of  weak  man.' 

"'But  they  must  have  some  check,  sir,  or  arrest. 
Ambition  is  engendered  easily, 
As,  in  a  vicious  body,  gross  disease 
Soon  grows  through  humours'  superfluity ; 
When  swol'n  with  plenty's  pride,  thou  soon  wouldst  see 
Nor  prince,  nor  peer,  nor  kin  they  would  abide.' 

"'On  land  or  sea,  bold  Britons,  far  or  near, 
Whatever  course  their  matchless  virtues  shape, 
Whether  to  Europe's  bounds,  or  western  worlds, 
Will  ne'er  forget  their  loyalty  to  thee.' 

" '  Then  simple  truth  and  mutual  good  will 
Will  bring  sweet  peace — the  just  reward  of  both — 
And  heaven  will  right  the  wrongs  that  they  sustain.' 

"'  That's  like  enough,  when  you  unknit  this  knot 
Of  all-abhorred  war,  and  move  again 
In  that  obedient  orb,  where  thon  didst  give 
A  fair  and  natural  light,  my  gracious  Queen. 
But  when  I  see,  alas,  so  much  blood  spilt — 
So  many  murders,  horrid  massacres, 
So  many  cruel  battles  fought,  I  think 
'Tis  fitter  subject  for  bards  to  lament, 
As  Merlin,  when  he  sat  by  the  lake  side 
With  Vortigeru,  and  saw  the  dragons  fight, 
Before  he  'gan  interpret  or  to  speak. 
For  when  the  ground  with  multitudes  is  mantled, 
The  spring  is  hinder'd  by  the  smothering  hosts; 
For  neither  rain  can  fall  upon  the  earth, 


472  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Nor  sun  reflect  his  virtuous  beams  thereon, 
And  all  the  trees  are  blasted  with  their  breaths.' 

"'O,  ceaseless  and  disconsolate  conceits! 
Thou  hast  not  leave  to  wound  me  with  these  words. 
Christ  save  me,  'tis  no  time  to  discourse  so. 
What  is  it  then  to  me,  if  impious  war, 
Array'd  in  flames  like  to  the  prince  of  fiends, 
Do  with  his  smirch'd  complexion  all  fell  feats? 
Would  that  we  were  before  our  armies,  and  could  fight! 
I  could  maintain  my  argument  as  well 
As  any  militarie  man  in  all  the  world. 
For,  certes,  in  my  nature,  I'm  a  soldier — 
A  name  that  in  my  thoughts  becomes  me  best. 
I  know  the  disciplines  of  war  and  there's  an  end. 
Though  all  the  world  should  come,  I  shall  do  well. 
The  people  love  me,  and  the  sea  is  mine, 
And  sooner  shall  they  drink  the  ocean  dry, 
Than  conquer  England  or  endanger  us.' 

"'Yet  ere  we  put  ourselves  in  arms,  fair  Queen, 
Dispatch  we  this  whereof  we  have  long  talkt.' 

"  *  Perchance  thou  think'st  I  jest.     No  'tis  not  so. 
Where  is  that  happy  land  of  dear  delights, 
Which  thou  so  much  dost  vaunt,  yet  nowhere  show  ? 
Many  great  regions  are  discovered, 
And  daily  won  through  hardy  enterprise, 
Which  to  late  age  were  never  mentioned. 
Is't  one  of  these  ?     The  Indian  Peru  ? 
Or  fruitfullest  Virginia  o'er  the  sea? 
Hast  thou  in  venturous  vessel  measured 
The  Amazon,  huge  river  now  found  true? 
Indeed,  'twould  be  a  pleasant  tale  to  tell ! 
Why  vouch  antiquities  which  none  can  know? 


The  Spanish  Armada.  473 


Rather  with  better  sense  let  man  advise, 
That,  of  the  world,  to  us  least  part  is  read ; 
And  teach  us  all  to  have  aspiring  minds, 
And  souls  whose  faculties  can  comprehend 
The  wondrous  architecture  of  the  world. 
There  is  no  need  of  any  such  redress 
As  this  whereof  you  speak,  Francis,  my  son. 
Or  if  there  were,  it  nought  belongs  to  thee. 
Thou'rt  well  restor'd,  I'm  glad,  let  the  rest  go. 
Know  thou  it  is  in  us  to  plant  thine  honour 
And  fortune,  where  we  please  to  have  it  grow. 
Obey  our  will,  which  travails  in  thy  good. 
Believe  not  thy  disdain,  but  presently, 
Do  thine  own  fortune  that  obedient  right, 
Which  both  thy  duty  owes  and  our  power  claims; 
Or  I  will  throw  thee  from  my  care  forevej, 
Into  the  staggers  and  the  careless  lapse 
Of  youth  and  ignorance ;  both  my  revenge 
And  hate,  loosing  upon  thee  in  the  name 
Of  Justice  without  any  terms  of  pity. 
The  basest  waiter  that  attends  thy  cups, 
Shall  be  in  honour  greater  than  thyself.* 

"  How  fortune  tempers  lucky  haps  with  frowns, 
And  wrongs  me  with  the  sweets  of  my  delight ! 
Fond  Ate,  doomer  of  bad  boding  fates, 
That  wrapst  proud  fortune  in  thy  snaky  locks, 
Didst  thou  enchant  my  birthday  with  such  stars, 
As  lighten'd  mischief  from  their  infancy? 
And  shall  I  never  have  a  merry  day, 
But  lose  the  fame  and  honour  of  my  head? 
Bootless  I  saw  it  was  to  war  with  Fate, 
That  hath  so  many  unresisted  friends, 


474  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Wherefore  I  chaug'd  my  counsel  with  the  time, 
And  planted  love  where  envy  erst  had  sprang. 

" '  What  blessing  great  and  what  dole  of  fortune 
Flies  where  you  bid  it,  O  my  righteous  Queen ! 
But  these  breed  honour  that  is  honour's  scorn, 
Which  challenges  itself,  as  honour's  born, 
And  there,  indeed,  thou'lt  see  they  better  thrive, 
When  rather  from  our  acts  we  them  derive 
Than  our  foregoers;  good  alone  is  good; 
Without  a  name,  fair  Queen,  vileness  is  so; 
The  property  by  what  it  is  should  go, 
Not  by  the  title.' 

"'Must  I  now  send  to  thee  most  humble  treaties, 
And  dodge  and  palter  in  the  shifts  of  lowness, 
Who  have  with  half  the  bulk  o'  th'  great  world 
Play'd  as  I  pleas'd,  making  and  marring  fortunes? 
Faith  thou  dost  know  how  much  thou  art  my  conqueror. 
My  hand,  made  weak  by  my  affection, 
Would  it  obey  in  all — 'tis  most  unnoble  swerving. 
But  'tis  not  of  much  use,  sir,  to  recount 
All  this,  though  I  commend  thy  composition, 
And  argument  of  honourable  disposition. 
Sweet  sir,  thou  shouldst  not  be  thyself,  did  not 
With  mounting  mind  thy  gifts  surmount  the  rest. 
The  benediction  of  these  covering  heavens 
Fall  on  thy  head  like  dew,  for  thou  art  worthy 
To  inlay  heaven  with  stars.     But  now  farewell, 
'Twixt  thee  and  danger  will  I  ever  stand.' 

"'Pray  give  me  leave  to  lay  my  duty  on  thy  hand, 
And  crave  acceptance  of  my  humblest  thanks. 
Farewell,  my  peerless  mistress,  sovereign  of  my  peace, 
Long  mayst  thou  joy  with  honour's  great  increase, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  475 

And  even  so  I  pray  heaven  for  thy  happiness.' 
"  So  having  ended  my  devotion  dutiful, 

I  gently  left  the  presence  of  the  Queen, 

And  with  firm  eyes  affix'd,  the  ground  I  view'd, 

Of  sorry'st  fancies  making  my  companions. 

Men  judge  by  the  complexion  of  the  sky, 

The  state  and  inclination  of  the  day; 

So  might  you,  by  my  dull  and  heavy  eye, 

My  tongue  had  but  a  heavy  tale  to  say. 

Fain  would  I  go  to  meet  my  prisoner, 

But  many  thousand  reasons  hold  me  back. 

I  am  perplext  and  know  not  what  to  say, 

Nor  can  I  think  at  present  what  to  do. 

I  sigh  for  Anthony  who  very  oft, 

When  I  am  dull  with  care  and  melancholy, 

Lightens  my  humour  with  his  merry  jests. 

Lacking  his  company,  to  myself  I  said, 

'  Within  this  hour  it  will  be  dinner  time. 

Till  that  I'll  view  what's  passing  in  the  town, 

Persue  the  traders,  gaze  upon  the  buildings, 

And  then  return  and  sleep  within  mine  inn, 

For  with  long  travel  I  am  stiff  and  weary.' 

Hopeless  and  helpless  did  I  wend  my  way, 

Till  I  came  to  my  inn,  and  in  good  time, 

For  there  I  met  the  gracious  host,  who  said : 

'"Welcome,  you  have  been  hotly  call'd  for,  gentle 
sir, 

Your  friends  have  sent  a  dozen  sequent  messengers, 

This  very  hour  at  one  another's  heels. 

And  when  not  at  your  lodgings  to  be  found, 

They  sent  three  several  quests  to  search  you  out. 

One  waits  within  who  at  the  table  sits, 


476  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Himself  refreshing  with  a  liquid  cold 
After  hia  long  pursuit.' 

"  Unwilling  I  proceed 
Unto  the  open  hall  at  the  inn's  front ; 
There  did  I  find,  or  rather,  I  was  found 
Of  this  good  trusty  friend,  who  there  did  wait. 
I  wond'red  at  his  breathless  hasty  mood, 
And  his  impatient  mind. 

"'Something  from  th'  city.' 

"  I  may  divine  it  is  a  business  of  some  heat, 
His  greeting  with  great  humblesse  he  did  make, 
Then  to  my  hands  a  paper  he  did  give, 
Which  I,  disclosing,  read  and  stood  amaz'd, 
At  suddenness  at  which  my  purposes 
Had  prov'd  a  lawful  prize  for  gossips  at  the  Court. 
I  take  it  much  unkindly  that  my  business, 
The  which  I  thought  at  least  be-leed  and  calm'd — 
Put  into  circumscription  and  confine — 
Until  the  morn,  should  raise,  as  this  writ  told, 
A  breeze  of  prattle  'yond  belief.     Abhor  me 
If  ever  I  did  dream  of  such  a  matter ! 
Three  great  ones  of  the  city  send  to  me, 
(And  sacred  pledges  give  of  secrecy) 
And  beg  that  I  will  not  procrastinate  the  time, 
To  seek  the  monie  that  I  needs  must  have, 
For  that  new,  unknown  guest  from  foreign  clime. 
What  mean  these  idle  rancorous  threats,  in  lines 
Addrest  to  me  in  terms  imperious  ? 

"  *  Thou  hast  this  day,  ere  his  arrival  here, 
To  beg  or  borrow  to  make  up  the  sum, 
The  which  is  wanting  to  redeem  his  life, 
Or  he  is  doom'd  to  die  this  very  day ; 


The  Spanish  Armada.  477 

Sith  he  not  being  able  to  buy  out  his  life, 
According  to  the  statute  of  the  Crown 
Dies  ere  the  wearie  sun  set  in  the  west, 
Unless  ten  thousand  pounds  be  levied  straight, 
To  quit  the  penalty  and  ransom  him. 
The  enmity  and  discord,  which  of  late 
Sprung  from  the  rancorous  outrage  of  this  King 
To  our  well-dealing  countrymen,  you  wot, 
Who  seaPd  his  rigorous  statutes  with  their  bloods, 
Excludes  all  pity  from  our  threat'ning  looks ; 
For  since  the  mortal  and  intestine  jars, 
'Twixt  the  Most  Catholic  King  and  us, 
It  hath  in  solemn  synods  been  decreed, 
Both  by  the  Spanish  Council  and  ourselves, 
To  admit  no  traffic  to  our  seaport  towns. 
Nay  more,  if  any  born  in  England,  ere  be  seen 
At  any  Spanish  marts,  harbors  or  towns ; 
Again,  if  any  in  Hispania  born, 
Come  to  the  bays  of  England,  he  shall  die, 
His  goods  confiscate  to  the  Queen's  dispose. 
Thou  art  not  partial  to  infringe  our  laws, 
We  bid  thee  be  advised  for  the  best, 
And  plead  no  more  against  his  punishment. 
Farewell,  we  do  commend  thee  to  thine  own  content/ 
"Following  this  were  names  well-known  to  all — 
Merchants  of  a  distinguish'd,  ancient  Guild, 
Whose  wealth,  by  prosperous  voyages  increast, 
Was  a  great  factor  in  th'  affairs  of  State. 
Strange  words !     On  them  I  gaze  long  time  in  doubt, 
Reflecting  on  the  nature  of  the  speech 
To  make  unto  them  when  I  there  arrive. 
The  word  '  content'  drawing  mine  eye,  I  thought: 


478  The  Spanish  Armada. 


1  He  that  commends  me  to  mine  own  content 

Commends  me  to  the  thing  I  cannot  get. 

I  to  the  world  am  like  a  drop  of  water, 

That  in  the  ocean  seeks  another  drop,  . 

Who  failing  there  to  find  his  fellow,  forth 

Unseen,  inquisitive,  confounds  himself. 

So  I,  to  find  a  mother,  or  a  mother's  heart, 

In  quest  of  them,  unhappy,  lose  myself. 

By  th'  faith  of  man,  I  know  my  price ; 

I'm  worth  no  worse  a  place  than  England's  throne. 

And  if  these  merchants  here  had  the  election, 

(Who've  oft  made  suit  to  make  me  their  lieutenant, 

Even  without  practice  in  soldiership,) 

The  world  should  see  me  now  advanced  high, 

And  I  should  yet  attain  unto  the  crown.' 

"  Quoth  I,  *  'Tis  well  that  I  am  found  of  you. 
I  will  but  spend  a  word  here  in  the  house 
And  go  with  you.' 

"  Then  to  mine  host  I  said  : — 
'  I  am  invited  sir  to  dine  with  friends. 
'Tis  meet  that  thou  shouldst  know  of  this, 
Since  thou  hast  made  provision  for  me  here. 
And  say,  if  any  call  for  me  meanwhile, 
I  will  return  at  bedtime  "to  the  inn.' 

"  Then  did  we  go  with  haste,  and  stayed  not 
To  look  upon  the  right  hand  nor  the  left, 
And  spake  not  till  we  stood  before  the  house, 
Where,  wishing  me  good-speed,  and  charging  me 
To  do  exactly  in  all  points  as  directed, 
He  bade  me  enter :  '  Gentle  Bacon  go, 
And  thrust  thyself  into  their  company. 
But  tell  them  first,'  said  he  in  merry  mood, 


The  Spanish  Arm<i<lft.  479 


'You  honor  much  their  house  them  to  attend.' 

I  paus'd  one  moment  at  the  half  op'd  door, 

The  next,  I  stood  within  the  stately  hall 

Whose  height  seem'd  many  times  as  great,  you  wot, 

ISince  without  proper  light  it  needs  must  be. 

Many  a  worthy  ornament,  howe'r, 

Disposed  was  its  richness  to  reveal;* 

And  many  an  ancient  badge  of  honour  there, 

I  did  espy  most  brightly  glistening, 

With  starry  beams  about  them  shining  bright. 

The  doubly  parted  door  behind  me  clos'd 

('Twas  not  of  wood  nor  of  enduring  brass, 

But  of  more  worthy  substance  fram'd  it  was) 

And  when  it  locked  none  might  through  it  pass, 

Or  when  it  open'd  no  man  might  it  close; 

Still  open'd  to  their  friends  and  clos'd  to  foes. 

With  great  designs  of  noble  consequence, 

And  commonwealth  affairs  they  spend  their  wits. 

I  saw  them  every  man  stall'd  in  their  places, 

All  meet  to  be  of  counsel  to  a  king, 

Discoursing  of  the  dreadful,  late  distress 

In  which  the  kingdom  was  so  rudely  cast. 

Devising  what  to  do  in  this  dire  case, 

Or  how  invent  some  means  most  excellent, 

For  conduct  of  the  war.     These  men  may  be 

Compared,  truly,  to  the  body's  sinews, 

As  sovereignty  may  be  compar'd  to  spirits. 

Their  wealth  and  treasure  doth  the  Crown  control, 

For  well  'tis  known  that  the  Queen's  hand  doth  hold, 

Their  purse  as  if  the  strings  had  been  her  own, 

Of  which  mine  eyes  had  seen  the  proof  erstwhiles. 

Eke  though  I  were  a  forced  guest,  indeed, 


480  The  Spanish  Armada, 


I  did  receive  a  welcome  wondrous  warm, 
And  passing  well  profest  in  courteous  words. 

" '  Welcome  ten  thousand  times,  my  gentle  sir, 
We  lackt  your  counsel  and  your  help  to-night,' 
Said  he  who  o'er  th'  assembly  did  preside. 

"*  Your  Honor's  pardon,  pray,  so  did  I  yours.' 

"Grows  not  a  fairer  flower  than  courtesy, 
Though  it  on  lowly  stalk  doth  often  bower, 
Hidden  from  view  of  men,  and  th'  world's  disdain. 
I'll  not  confound  the  time  with  conference  harsh ; 
Deeds,  words  and  thoughts,  shall  all  be  as  a  king's, 
And  my  deserts  shall  counterpoise  a  king's, 
Why  should  not  I,  then,  look  to  be  a  king? 
To  temporize  is  not  from  truth  to  swerve, 
N"e  for  advantage  terms  to  entertain. 
These  prudent  heads,  that  with  their  counsels  wise, 
The  pillars  of  the  State  do  well  sustain, 
Shall  now  give  unto  me  words  good  and  sound. 

"'Where  is  your  prisoner  now,  and  what  of  him? 

"'I  know  not  where  he  is,  but  this  I  know, 
I  dare  in  'sdain  of  wrong  and  tyranny, 
Defend  his  freedom  'gainst  a  monarchy: 
Is't  not  a  kingly  resolution,  sirs?' 

"  *  It  cannot  choose  because  it  comes  from  thee. 
It  is  a  resolution  sound  and  just, 
According  to  the  law  and  to  the  truth. 
Sir,  cheer  thy  heart,  nor  troubled  be  with  th'  times, 
Which  drive  o'er  thy  content  these  sad  necessities. 
Be  no  whit  sad.     A  Queen  gave  thee  thy  name, 
A  kingly  mind,  thy  God  hath  given  thee, 
As  bright  as  is  the  burning  lamp  of  heaven,' 

"*  You  citizens  of  this  metropolis, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  481 

Whose  honour  and  whose  oath  I  gratulate, 

(For  well  I  know  that  here,  amongst  you,  be 

Full  many  persons  of  right  worthy  parts, 

Both  for  report  of  spotless  honesty, 

And  for  profession  of  all  learned  arts,) 

List  whilst  I  tell  you  all,  and  sirs,  I  pray, 

Use  not  a  spur  when  I  do  need  a  bit. 

It  makes  the  course  of  thought  to  fetch  about 

Startles  and  frights  consideration,  too. 

My  answer  will  I  give  to  your  demand. 

I  left  my  prisoner  in  th'  Adam  and  Eve — 

That  noble  ship  was  a  sea-wall'd  fort, 

Which  wandereth  on  the  seas  imperial — 

I  bade  the  captain  tell  me  first,  good  sirs, 

Whether  'twere  best  to  send  my  prisoner  on, 

As  soon  as  it  did  seem  expedient,    . 

Or  wait  compulsion  of  the  Queen's  command. 

He  thought  it  well  that  I  should  send  him  hither, 

And  said  some  friends  of  his  of  good  esteem, 

Were  journeying  on  the  morrow  to  salute  the  Queen, 

And  to  commend  their  service  to  her  will. 

In  this  good  company  should  my  Spaniard  go, 

He  did  not  need  an  army  for  an  usher, 

No  neighs  of  horse  to  tell  of  his  approach. 

He  gave  me  good  advice.     These  were  his  words: 

"'My  very  hairs  do  mutiny,  for  the  white 
Reprove  the  brown  for  rashness,  and  they  them 
For  fear  and  doting.     Friend,  begone,  thou  shalt 
Have  letters  from  me  to  some  friends,  that  will 
Sweep  well  the  way  for  thee.     Pray  look  not  sad 
Nor  make  replies  of  loathness.     Take  the  hint 
Which  now  I  do  proclaim  and  get  thee  hence, 


482  The  Spanish  Armada. 

With  all  due  speed  unto  Her  Majesty.' 

"Then  I  did  haste  away  but  other  business 
Detain'd  me  in  the  town  until  the  morn 
Did  steal  upon  the  night,  melting  the  darkness, 
And  I,  awhile,  compelled  was  to  rest. 
It  was  my  purpose  to  pursue  my  way 
Upon  the  Thames,  for  this  hot  weather,  sirs, 
Makes  riding  wearisome,  and  pleasantly 
The  river  glideth  through  the  breezy  ways. 
A  bark  just  leaving,  rny  occasion  serv'd; 
I  journey'd  with  advantage  of  great  ease; 
Arriv'd  at  London  near  the  palace  bounds 
I  hied  me  straight  unto  our  Sovereign, 
Both  resolute  and  full  of  secrecy. 
The  Queen's  enchanting  presence  and  discourse 
Did  almost  make  me  traitor  to  myself; 
Her  pleasant  jest  and  courtesy  meseem'd 
As  bombast  and  as  lining  to  the  times, 
But  maketh  sound  opinion  sick  and  truth'  suspect'd, 
For  putting  on  so  new  a  fashion'd  robe. 
At  times,  my  heart  'gan  swell  in  jollity, 
And  of  my  friend,  great  hope  and  help  conceiv'd. 
But  when  a  man  cannot  vary  or  choose 
Particulars,  in  general,  'tis  good 
To  take  the  safest  and  the  wariest  way, 
Like  going  softly  by  one  that  cannot  well  see. 
This  knew  I  passing  well,  but  did  not  do, 
And  thinking  on  it  makes  me  cry  alas! 
The  ablest  men  that  ever  were,  have  had 
An  openness  and  frankness  of  dealing, 
And  if  they  did  dissimulate  in  deed, 
It  was  invisible  to  all  men's  eyes, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  483 

Hid  in  the  skirts  or  train  of  secrecy. 

Her  Majesty  knew  when  to  stop  or  turn, 

Like  steeds  well  manag'd,  and  did  ever  change 

The  subject  of  discourse  to  other  things, 

At  such  times  when  I  thought  the  case  well  won, 

And  pleasing  t'  her  to  whom  I  did  present  it, 

She  thenceforth  straight  into  some  new  vein  brought 

The  tide  of  talk,  ere  I  the  victory  gain'd, 

And  made  me  oft  be  guilty  of  self-wrong. 

I  hardly  did  myself  good,  much  less  him.' 

"  *  Nay  let  thy  doubts  by  time  be  banished,' 
The  eldest  merchant  said  in  kindly  wise, 
'Fortune  brings  in  some  boats  that  are  not  steer'd. 
Consents  must  come  from  the  Queen's  Councillors, 
Who  will  be  at  the  Court  as  soon  as  we 
I  warrant  thee.     Confound  them  by  some  course, 
And  come  to  me ;  I'll  give  thee  gold  enough ; 
And  if  the  Queen  forbids  to  ransom  him, 
I'll  thunder  such  a  peal  into  her  ears, 
As  never  subject  did  unto  his  Queen. 
For  more  than  common  service  I've  perform'd, 
For  longer  space  than  three  and  twenty  years, 
^  Through  thick  and  thin,  and  praise  likewise  deserv'd 
With  others  that  have  greater  skill  in  mind — 
Greater  than  those  who  think  themselves  more  wise,  • 
Though  they  enforce  themselves — our  Sovereign 
Could  nought  deny  of  rll  which  I  might  claim, 
So  that  I  boldly  may  express  my  wish. 
I  will  this  undertake  to  have  him  hence, 
And  see  him  re-deliver'd  to  thy  hands.' 

" <  What  shall  I  say?     I  know  not  what  to  say. 
In  my  own  case  .service's  no  heritage.' 


484  The  Spanish  Armada. 

"'True,  true,  my  friend,  we've  been  too  sharp  with 

thee. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  I  should  wish  to  do 
A  grace  like  this  to  an  accursed  Spaniard, 
But  since  he  was  by  Heavenly  Powers  assign'd 
To  thee,  on  whom  I  fix6d  had  my  hope 
In  blessed  state  to  see,  my  heart  did  frame 
This  course  wholly  for  thee,  my  friend,  and  ne'er 
Will  cease  to  seek  for  to  advance  the  same. 
The  meanest  with  the  mightiest  may,  in  this, 
Express  his  love  and  loyalty  alike. 
(Blazons  affection's  force  in  lord  and  lown, 
Auspiciously  beginning  many  years, 
And  golden  days  and  infinite  to  come, 
Passing,  in  number  and  in  happiness, 
The  best  that   ever  earthly  prince  enjoy'd) 
And  with  the  strings  of  his  unfeigned  heart, 
Tune  his  true  joy  for  all  those  days  of  peace — 
Those  quiet  days  that  Englishmen  enjoy 
Under  our  Queen — Fair'Queen  of  Brute's  new  Troy. 
Great  Nature  like  thy  ancestry,  the  stuff 
Moulded  so  fair,  thou'dst  serve  the  praise  o'  th'  world. 
Sir,  thou  hast  show'd  to-day  thy  valiant  strain, 
And  Fortune  led  thee  well;  thou  hast  the  captive, 
Who  doth  appear  as  a  strong  argument, 
To  teach  men  of  thy  worth,  and  cast  new  lustre 
Upon  that  reputation,  great  at  home 
Yet  greater  far  abroad,  for  bravery. 
The  greater  good  is  gain'd  by  our  own  merit, 
Since  when  we  have  advantage  thus  obtain'd, 
We  have  the  instruments  to  use  again. 
The  magnitude  and  nature  of  thy  deeds, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  485 

Assured  pledges  are  that  we  may  trust  thee. 

Our  will  is  something  sorted  with  thy  wish 

We  know,  and  sure  thy  friends  and  followers 

Are  men,  both  active  and  effectual. 

Plain  'tis  to  see  thou  mean'st  friendship  to  be 

An  instrument,  not    an  impediment. 

Thou  must  proceed  according  to  thy  nature, 

For  thus  are  princes  best  interpreted, 

And  all,  if  they  be  free  to  make  election, 

Should  heed,  accordingly,  how  that  their  nature  * 

Sorteth  with  their  profession  and  their  course  of  life. 

Caesar  at  first  was  orator  or  pleader, 

But  when  he  saw  the  excellence  of  others — 

Hortentius,  Cicero,  and  Catalus — 

While  for  the  wars,  he  saw  there  was  no  man 

Of  reputation  great  but  Pompeus, 

On  whom  the  State  was  forced  to  rely, 

Forsook  his  course  begun  towards  civil  greatness, 

And  his  designs  transferr'd  to  martial  power. 

Let's  see  the  proudest  scholar  shift  his  course 

To  warlike  ways,  and  we  will  yield  him  praise, 

Beside  the  honour  in  conquests  assur'd; 

And  victory  adorn'd  with  Fortune's  plumes, 

Shall  eke  alike  upon  his  glorious  crest, 

And,  through  his  prowess  and  victorious  arms, 

Our  country  may  be  freed  from  foreign  harms. 

Bacon  do  this  and  thou  contentest  us.' 

"'My  thanks,  a  thousand  times  unto  you  all. 
But,  sirs,  the  judgment  of  antiquity  was  just. 
Honours  divine  did  they  award  to  those 
"Who  were  the  authors  of  inventions. 
This  doth  appear  to  hold,  by  far,  first  place. 


486  The  Spanish  Armada. 

To  others  who  in  th'  State  did  do  good  service- 
Founders  of  cities,  saviours  of  their  country 
From  long  endured  evils,  tyrannies, 
They  did  decree  no  higher  honours,  sirs, 
Than  the  heroic'  these  three  things  should  bo 
Alike  subordinate  only  to  nature. 
And  men  can  hardly  make  themselves  believe, 
They  ought  to  change  that  course  which  they  have  found 
To  be  successful,  if  it  pleasant  be. 
I  may,  nor  will,  list  to  such  loathsome  change, 
That  intercepts  the  course  of  my  desire.' 

" '  'Tis  the  more  honour  because  more  dangerous.' 

"  'Aye,  but  give  me  worship,  sirs,  and  quietness, 
I  like  it  better  than  a  dangerous  honour. 
The  praise  you  give  is  better  than  the  prize, 
The  glory  eke  much  greater  than  the  gain.' 

"  Whilst  with  delight  of  this  I  wisely  spake, 
Night  was  far  spent,  and  now,  in  ocean  deep, 
Orion,  flying  fast  from  hissing  snake, 
His  flaming  head  did  hasten  for  to  steep, 
And  Dawn  blush'd  in  the  east.     Come  what,  come  may — 
Time  and  the  hour  run  through  the  roughest  day. 

"'Now    God    thee   speed,'    quoth  then  rny  gentle 

friend, 

'And  keep  your  body  from  the  danger  dread, 
For  thou  hast  much  ado  to  deal  withal. 
Be  thou  in  thy  departure  fortunate, 
And  eke  triumphant  in  thy  safe  return.' 

"  So  all  took  goodly  leave  and  parted  several, 
And  forth  we  issu'd  to  the  silent  streets, 
And  being  there  alone  left  and  abandon'd, 
My  mind  doth  satisfy  itself  with  shadows 


The  Spanish  Armada.  487 

Of  things,  whose  substance  cannot  be  obtain'd. 

This  maketh  all  my  thoughts  heroical, 

In  which,  whatever  in  this  earthly  state 

Is  sweet  and  pleasing  unto  living  sense, 

Or  that  my  daint'est  fantasy  aggrate 

Is  poured  forth  with  plentiful  dispense, 

And  in  some  sort  these  wants  of  mine  are  crown'd. 

Therewith,  awhile,  I  my  fleet  fancy  feed ; 

My  fickle  heart  conceiveth  hasty  ire 

(Like  sparks  of  fire  which  fall  in  slender  flex) 

That  shortly  burns  into  extreme  desire, 

And  ransacks  all  my  veins  with  iustill'd  fire. 

Such  rage  as  winter's  reigneth  in  my  heart, 

As  if  my  years  were  waste  and  waxen  old, 

And  yet,  alas !  but  now  my  springs  begun, 

And  yet,  alas!  it  is  already  done. 

For  this  continual,  cruel  civil  war, 

The  which  myself  against  myself  doth  make, 

Doth  in  me  stir  up  old  rebellious  thoughts. 

Thus  war  I  for  long  time  against  my  will, 

Till  that  through  weakness  I  am  forc'd  at  last, 

To  yield  myself  unto  the  mighty  ill, 

That  is  the  greatest  shame  and  proudest  scorn. 

0  Queen,  that  thou  wouldst  once  vouchsafe  my  plaint  to 

hear! 

But  when  I  plead,  thou  ever  bid'st  me  play  my  part ; 
And  when  I  weep,  thou  say'st  'Tears  are  but  water;' 
And  when  I  sigh,  thou  say'st  'I  know  the  art;' 
And  when  I  wail,  thou  turn'st  thyself  to  laughter. 
Ne  ought  so  strong  that  may  this  force  withstand, 
"With  which  thou  arm£st  Fate's  resistless  hand. 
'Faith,  it  the  mildest  man  alive  would  make 


488  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Forget  his  patience  and  yield  vengeance  due  ! 
Full  many  times  thou  prickt  me  to  the  heart, 
And  naught  the  hurt  will  heal  but  salve  of  sovereign 

might. 

But  he  who  hath  endur'd  the  whole  can  bear  each  part, 
Though  somewhat  moved  in  his  mighty  heart, 
And  with  strong  reason  will  I  master  passion, 
Care,  griefs,  and  discontents — all  in  a  word, 
That  in  excess  exceedeth  my  own  might, 
And  patience  seek  to  conquer  sorrow  so. 
I'll  leave  it  all,  it  mendeth  not  with  words; 
Nor  herbs,  nor  time,  such  remedy  affords, 
Though  each  had  hidden  power  andmight  of  magic  spell. 

"  I  found  that  I  had  wander'd  far  away, 
Still  flying  from  my  thoughts  and  jealous  fears, 
With  grief  as  guide,  my  will  led  me  astray ; 
At  disad venture  to  and  fro  I  stray 'd, 
Like  as  a  ship  whose  loadstar  suddenly 
Cover'd  with  clouds,  her  pilot  hath  dismay'd. 
At  last  the  golden  oriental  gate, 
Of  greatest  heaven  'gan  to  open  fair, 
And  Phoabus,  fresh  as  bridegroom  to  his  mate, 
Came  dancing  forth  shaking  his  dewy  hair, 
And  whirl'd  his  glist'ring  beams  through  gloomy  air; 
Whereof  some  glance  doth  in  my  eyes  remain, 
Of  which,  beholding  the  ideal  plain, 
Through  contemplation  of  my  purest  part, 
With  light  thereof  I  do  myself  sustain. 
The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  our  God, 
But  it  is  nowhere  written  that  the  heavens 
Declare  the  will  of  God,  yet  there  we  learn 
To  sing  His  name  and  praises  over  all. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  489 

I  hearken  to  the  bird's  unlearned  song 
The  dewy  leaves  among,  for  they  of  joy 
And  pleasance  to  me  sing,  that  all  the  woods 
Unto  them  answer,  and  their  echo  ring 
With  the  base  murmur  of  the  waters'  fall. 
The  waters'  fall  with  difference  discreet, 
Now  soft,  now  loud,  unto  the  wind  doth  call, 
The  gentle  warbling  wind  low  answereth  to  all. 
What  world's  delight  or  joy  of  living  speech, 
Doth  joyous  peace  and  quietness  excel? 
I  stay'd  no  longer  there,  but  forth  in  haste 
Departed  for  the  palace  of  the  strand, 
To  follow  this  adventure's  first  intent, 
Which  long  ago  I  taken  had  in  hand, 
NOT  stayed  step  till  that  I  came,  at  last, 
Panting  for  breath  and  almost  out  of  heart, 
To  th'  Court  from  whence  I  lately  did  depart. 

"  My  royal  mother,  waiting  for  my  coming, 
Accompanied  by  divers  of  her  nobles, 
Her  Chancellor  and  other  Councillors, 
(Who  took  from  her  fair  eyes  commandement, 
And  from  her  looks  conceived  her  intent) 
Did  bid  me  welcome,  and  received  me 
In  royal  state  in  her  Chamber  of  Presence. 
I  did  advance  unto  th'  upper  part, 
Where  was  a  stately  siege  of  majesty, 
Whereon  our  Sovereign  sate,  as  gorgeous  gay 
As  fair  Aurora  in  her  purple  pall, 
Endowed  with  most  royal  majesty. 
It  seern'd  that  little  angels  did  uphold 
The  cloth  of  state,  and  on  their  purpled  wings 
Did  bear  the  pendants  through  their  nimblesse  bold. 


490  The  Spanish  Armada. 

So  richly  clad  in  robes  of  royalty, 

That  never  earthly  prince  in  such  array 

His  glory  did  enhance  and  pride  display. 

Her  face  right  wondrous  fair  did  seem  to  be, 

And  her  broad  Beauty's  beam  great  ^brightness  threw 

Through  the  dim  shade,  that  all  men  might  it  see. 

Likest  it  seemed  to  my  simple  wit, 

Unto  the  fair  sunshine  in  summer  day, 

At  sight  whereof,  each  bird  that  sits  on  spray, 

And  every  beast  that  to  his  den  was  fled, 

Comes  forth  afresh  out  of  his  late  dismay, 

And  to  the  light  lift  up  their  drooping  head. 

So  my  storm-beaten  heart  likewise  is  cheer'd 

With  that  sunshine,  when  cloudy  looks  are  clear'd. 

The  blazing  brightness  of  her  beauty's  beam, 

And  glorious  light  of  her  sunshiny  face, 

Through  the  broad  world  doth  spread  its  goodly  ray. 

To  tell,  were  as  to  strive  against  the  stream. 

My  ragged  lines  are  all  too  rude  and  base, 

Her  heavenly  lineaments  for  to  enchase. 

Mirror  of  grace  and  majesty  divine  ! 

Great  lady  of  the  greatest  Isle,  whose  light, 

Like  Phrebus'  lamp  throughout  the  world  doth  shine, 

That  all  her  peers  cannot  with  her  compare, 

But  quite  are  dimm'd  when  she  is  in  her  place! 

Thus  sitting  in  her  sovereign  majesty, 

Holding  a  sceptre  in  her  royal  hand, 

The  sacred  pledge  of  peace  and  clemency, 

She  seem'd  the  flower  of  chastity  and  grace, 

Whose  glory  shineth  as  the  morning  star, 

And  with  her  light  the  earth  enlumines  clear. 

Far  reach  her  mercies,  and  her  praises  fair 


The  Spanish  Armada.  491 


Throughout  the  world  are  sounded,  far  and  near, 
From  icy  Tanais  to  the  seven-fold  Nile. 
As  well  in  state  of  peace  as  in  rude  war.' 

" '  0  goddess,  heavenly  bright,  live  long 
In  state  of  bliss  and  steadfast  happiness — 
The  happiness  enjoy'd  but  of  a  few, 
Or  if  possess'd  as  soon  decay 'd  and  done, 
As  is  the  morning's  silver-melted  dew, 
And  like  a  summer  shade  doth  pass  away, 
Soon  as  the  sun  doth  but  the  mountains  touch. 
May  God  pour  on  thee  all  his  blessings  rich, 
And  may  the  hour-glass  of  thy  happy  reign 
Run  at  the  full  and  never  be  at  wane. 
What  more  felicity  can  fall  to  creatures, 
Than  to  be  subjects  in  thy  happy  reign? 
To  be  thy  councillors  and  ministers, 
Is  greatest  honour  to  which  men  aspire. 

0  gracious  Queen,  whom  I  have  serv'd  so  long, 

1  re-salute  thee  here  with  loyal  heart, 
And  thank  thy  noble  majesty  for  grace 
And  leave  to  bring  my  suit  before  thy  lords. 
I  do  intreat  thee  to  repair  the  wrong, 

That  Fate  hath  done  to  a  most  noble  prince. 
Let  all  that  hear  judge  wisely  of  the  case, 
And  counsel  give  whereof  may  come  relief.' 

"'But  he's  a  Spaniard,'  said  a  councillor, 
*  This  could  I  ne'er  endure.     The  mere  conceit 
Of  such  a  thing  i'  faith  would  drive  me  mad.' 

"'But  good  my  lord,'  said  I,  'doth  not  our  country 
Pride  itself  on  its  magnanimity, 
Which  better  us  beseems  ten-thousand-fold 
Than  any  ornaments  that  we  might  wear? 


492  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Besides  he  is  a  noble  fellow,  too, 
Albeit  he  comes  on  angry  purpose  now, 
But  that's  no  fault  of  his  but  of  his  sender.' 

'"We'll  make  our  judgments  on  the  things  them- 
selves, 

As  they  give  light  to  one  another,  sir; 
'Twill  not  be  contrary  to  his  desert. 
If  in  his  acts  there's  truth  enough  to  save  him, 
You  may  prejudge  the  sentence  we  shall  give. 
Proceed,  we  do  vouchsafe  justice  alone.' 

"  Therewith,  upon  advisement,  this  purpose 
To  advance  I  spake,  and  well  nigh  had  achiev'd 
The  end  I  sought,  when  lo,  in  strange  accoutrements, 
And  rich  habiliments  of  peace  and  war, 
The  officer-at-arms  before,  as  usher 
To  th'  train,  I  saw  His  Grace,  the  Lord  High  Admiral, 
The  careful  Palmer  and  Sir  Anthony  Cooke, 
Follow'd  by  Drake  and  many  officers, 
Who  with  them  went  along  as  a  strong  guard, 
Enter  the  Presence  Chamber;  four  captains 
Bore  Hamlet-like,  a  soldier  in  their  midst — 
A  Spanish  Don  unknown  to  me  before — 
And,  close  behind,  that  very  prisoner 
For  whom  I  spake,  well  pleas'd  I  saw  advance, 
Like  tall  Orion  stalking  o'er  the  flood, 
When  with  his  brawny  breast  he  cuts  the  waves, 
His  shoulders  scarce  the  topmost  billow  leaves, 
So  high  he  tower'd  above  all  common  men. 
Then  merchants,  lawyers,  country-gentlemen, 
Did  after  pass  encompassing  the  throne, 
Where,  angel-like,  the  heir  of  ancient  kings 
And  mighty  conquerors  in  royal  state, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  493 

Our  gracious  Queen  sat,  brave  embellished 

In  glistering  gold  and  peerless  precious  stone, 

That  shinM  wide  as  the  fair  moon  at  full, 

And  did  these  merchants  fixed  eyes  so  'maze 

That,  what  through  wonder  and  what  through  delight, 

Awhile  on  her  they  silently  did  gaze, 

Ere  they  advanc'd  and  their  obedience  paid. 

The  whiles  the  Spaniards  to  her  presence  mount, 

"Whose  glorious  view  might  frail  amazed  senses 

Quite  confound,  and  at  her  feet  did  fall. 

Her  majesty  receiv'd  them  graciously, 

And  from  her  lofty  siege  these  words  did  sound: — 

" '  Now  that  my  lords  and  captains  may  perceive 
My  mind,  in  this,  single  and  pure  to  be — 
As  pure  as  is  the  water  of  the  brook — 
My  dearest  son,  to  thee  I  do  engage 
Thy  prisoner  first  to  hear.     Don  Pedro,  speak.' 

"  Then  with  bold  grace  and  comely  gravity, 
Drawing  to  him  the  eyes  of  all  around, 
Thus  pleaded  he  his  cause  in  Spanish  tongue, 
And  I  there  standing  by,  it  did  translate. 

"'Great  and  most  glorious  virgin  Queen  alive. 
That  with  th}^  sovereign  power  and  sceptre  sheen 
All  England  doth  so  peaceably  susteen, 
List  the  sad  'hersal  of  my  heavy  stress, 
And  on  me  deign  thy  kindness  to  bestow. 
In  thee  the  riches  of  all  heavenly  grace 
In  chief  degree  are  heaped  up  on  high, 
And  all  that  else  this  world's  enclosure  base 
Hath  great  or  glorious  in  mortal  eye, 
Adorns  the  person  of  thy  majesty. 
In  widest  ocean  thou  thy  throne  dost  rear, 


494  The  Spanish  Armada. 

That  over  all  the  earth  it  may  be  seen, 
As  morning  sun,  thy  beams  dispredden  clear, 
For  this  fair  isle  is  but  thy  footstool  here. 
In  thy  fair  face  let  mercy  now  appear. 

"'The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain'd, 
It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  raine  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath.     It  is  twice  blest, 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes, 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest,  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown. 
His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
"Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings: 
But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway, 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself; 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice.     This  consider 
That  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation ;  we  do  pray  for  mercy, 
And  that  same  prayer,  doth  teach  us  ail  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy,  for  therein  doth  lie 
Most  of  our  duties  and  their  dignities.' 

"  *  How  silverly  his  speech  like  rills  progress ! 
My  heart  hath  melted  at  the  silver  sounds, 
And  even  there  methinks  an  angel  spoke. 
But  things  must  undergo  their  own  due  course, 
Because  I  will  not  jump  with  common  spirits, 
Nor  rank  me  with  the  lowly  of  the  earth. 
Bid  him  to  step  aside  and  bide  his  time. 
I  'gin  to  be  aweary  of  his  speech, 
And  wish  to  hear  my  Admiral's  report, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  495 

And  what  good  Captain  Drake  says  of  himself. 
Let  them  approach.' 

"As  they  advanc'd  she  said  : — 

"'  Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  honourable  friends 
Who  see  your  vauquish'd  foes  before  you  fly. 
Well  worthy  be  you  of  that  armoury, 
Wherein  we  have  with  glory  won  the  day, 
And  prov'd  your  strength  on  a  strong  enemy. 
What  is  his  strength  by  land,  however  great, 
Since  you  by  sea  are  masters  absolute? 
He  never  meant  with  words,  but  swords,  to  plead  his 

right — 

Or  what  he  pleases  to  foredeem  his  right — 
His  forces  fail,  he  can  no  longer  fight, 
Whose  courage,  rudely  fallen  to  the  ground, 
Groaning  full  deadly  all  with  troublous  fear, 
To  seek  some  place  the  which  mote  yield  some  ease, 
End  of  the  doubtful  battle  doth 'devise; 
But  sith  the  Heavens  and  your  fair  handeling 
Have  made  you  masters  of  the  land  and  sea, 
Now  tell  me,  if  you  please,  of  the  good  success 
Which  ye  have  had  in  your  late  enterprise.' 

"  To  her  the  Admiral  then  'gan  t*  express 
His  whole  exploit  and  valorous  emprize : — 
Now,  0  thou  sacred  Muse,  most  learned  dame, 
The  nurse  of  Time  and  everlasting  Fame, 
That  warlike  hands  ennoblest  with  immortal  name, 
O,  favor  my  beginnings  graciously. 

" '  Your  Majesty,'  he  said,  *  I  will  relate 
How  war  with  vicious  gall  doth  rage  apace. 
The  warlike  Dragon  first  in  perilous  fight, 
That  nought  but  spoil  and  vengeance  did  require, 


496  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Did  brawl  and  rayl,  jet  cowardly  withal, 

Till  that  there  enter'd  on  the  other  side 

The  Fly,  to  take  defiance  from  her  foe, 

Who  seeing  her  come  on  so  furiously, 

Met  her  mid-way  with  equal  hardiment; 

Against  her  ran,  full  of  dispiteous  ire, 

And  therewithal  at  her  right  doughty  strook. 

Greatly  she  grew  enrag'd,  and  furiously 

Roared  and  raged  to  be  underkept; 

Yet  she,  perforce,  her  held  and  strokes  upon  her  hept ; 

Full  many  wounds  in  her  she  did  engrave, 

And  riv'd  asunder  all  her  huge  great  beam, 

And  she  did  sink  down  to  the  deepest  sea. 

The  warlike  Amazon  came  forth  to  fight ; 

The  Arrow  upon  her  did  fly  with  fresh  assault, 

And  'gan  renew  her  former  cruelness, 

And  lay  incessant  battery  to  her  heart. 

A  mortal  bow  and  arrows  keen  did  hold, 

With  which  she  shot  at  random  where  she  list ; 

And  though  she  still  retir'd,  yet,  natheless, 

With  huge  redoubl'd  strokes  she  on  her  laid; 

Nought  could  she  do  but  shun  the  dread  despite 

Of  her  fierce  wrath,  and  backward  still  retire, 

And  with  her  lofty  sides,  well  as  she  might, 

Bear  off  the  burden  of  her  raging  ire. 

And  evermore  she  greatly  did  desire 

To  stay  her  strokes,  and  she  herself  would  yield, 

Yet  neither  would  she  heark,  ne  let  her  once  respire  ; 

But  leapt  to  her  as  doth  an  eager  hound 

Thrust  to  an  hind  within  some  covert  glade, 

And  many  wounds  made  in  her  waiste  of  oak, 

And  tore  her  all  with  terrible  mischance, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  497 


Till  she  a  wreck  was  made  all  bruis'd  and  broken  up. 

"'  Then  like  a  lion  that  had  long  time  sought 
His  robbed  whelps,  and  at  the  last  them  fond, 
The  Venus  forth  advancing  towards  them  came, 
Cross-cut  the  Vulcan,  who  was  nothing  slow 
Himself  to  save  from  that  so  deadly  throw. 
She  found  herself  assail'd  with  great  perplexity  ; 
Yet  from  thenceforth  more  warily  she  fought, 
As  one  in  fear  th'  Stygian  gods  t'  offend, 
Ne  follow'd  on  so  fast,  but  rather  sought 
Herelf  to  save,  'gainst  danger  to  defend, 
Than  strength  and  labor  both  in  vain  to  spend. 
And  then  another  Spanish  ship  did  come — 
The  stout  Passado  consort  of  the  Venus — 
To  her  relief.     With  courage  thougTTshe  fights, 
Ne  can  her  aid,  ne  can  her  foes  dismay. 
He  'gan  at  them  let  drive  more  fiercely  than  afore. 
Now  Cupid  came  that  was  well  skill'd  in  fight, 
And  to  the  battle  whylome  ready  dight, 
And  rushing  forth  into  the  open  sea, 
Against  the  Spaniard  fiercely  him  address'd 
Who,  him  affronting,  soon  to  fight  was  ready  press'd. 
But  her  so  rudely  they  two  fiercely  smit, 
That  they  empierced  to  the  very  pith, 
And  with  sharp  blows  did  rive  her  quite  in  tway; 
As  when  two  greedy  wolves  do  break  in  force 
Into  an  herd  far  from  the  husband  farm, 
They  spoil  and  ravin    all  without  remorse. 
Full  sad  and  dreadful  is  that  ship's  event; 
She's  like  a  ship  in  midst  of  tempest  left, 
Withouten  helm  or  pilot  her  to  stay. 

"'By  that  the  gloomy  evening  on  us  fell, 


498  TJie  Spanish  Armada. 

That  forc&d  us  from  fighting  to  refrain, 
And  trumpets'  sound  to  cease  all  did  compel. 
Two  days  incessantly  we  fought.' 

"'  Speak  now  the  events  of  the  second  day, 
And  tell  us  what  the  varied  fortunes  were, 
Of  these  fierce  battles.     Captain  Drake,  begin.' 

"  Then  did  she  pause,  iii  order  to  give  place 
Unto  the  valiant  captain,  who  thus  spake : — 

"'I  have  a  glory  set  unto  this  hand 
By  a  sea-fight.     A  ship,  forc'd  from  its  course, 
Courageously  did  coast  around  where  fear  forbids 
To  harbor;  and  her  every  wind  did  whip. 
Quickly  I  did  pursue  in  the  Revenge; 
And  she,  hedg'd  by  the  main,  could  not  escape 
But  to  the  rescue  of  the  noble  prey, 
The  vessels  of  her  fleet  came  swelling  in  ; 
Their  noble  minds  all  dastard  fear  defy, 
And  now  no  sooner  is  she  so  surprised, 
Than  semblance  of  fair  fight  she  quick  doth  make; 
But  in  that  moment  that  we  call  them  ours, 
Then,  even  then,  this  lapwing  runs  away. 
Quit  from  the  danger,  forth  their  course  they  kept, 
And,  as  they  went,  we  heard  over  the  sea 
A  rueful  cry — th'  resounding  plaints  of  one  that  wail'd 
And  painfully  did  weep.     Then  like  a  falcon 
We  issued  forth  and  hover'd  about  this  fowl, 
She  making  speedy  way;  and  creeping  still, 
We  lightly  slipped  unawares  behind, 
And  did  encounter  them,  and  turn  on  them 
Our  fire,  and  then  a  hot  fight  did  begin. 
And  then  the  devilish  engine,  wrought 
In  deepest  hell  and  fram'd  by  Furies'  skill, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  499 

With  windy  nitre  and  quick  sulphur  fraught, 

And  ramm'd  with  bullets  round  ordain'd  to  kill 

Conceiveth  fire ;  the  heavens  it  doth  fill 

With  thundering  noise;  and  all  the  air  doth  choke 

That  none  can  breathe,  nor  see,  nor  hear,  at  will 

Through  smouldry  clouds  of  duskish  stinky  smoke, 

That  th'  breath  him  daunts  who  hath  escap'd  the  stroke. 

Their  wooden  ribs  are  shaken  nigh  asunder. 

They  who  from  shore  behold  the  dreadful  sight 

Of  flashing  fire,  and  hear  the  ordnance  thunder, 

Do  greatly  stand  amaz'd  at  such  unwonted  wonder. 

When  that  she  saw  she  forced  was  to  fight, 

She  flew  at  us  like  to  an  hellish  fiend. 

Long  very  doubtful  was  the  battle's  event, 

Uncertain  whether  had  the  better  side; 

For  both  were  skill'd  in  that  experiment, 

And  both  in  arms  were  train'd  and  throughly  tried. 

But  we  were  lighter  and  more  quick, 

And  our  men  better  breathed  were  beside, 

And  towards  the  end  grew  greater  in  their  might. 

Our  noble  crew  like  dreadful  fight  ne'er  saw, 

Whose  flame  and  fatal  smoke  work'd  their  sad  end 

And  such  confusion  on  her.     Suddenly, 

All  wrapping  up  her  wreathed  stern  around, 

We  fir'd  our  broadsides  clean  across  her  deck, 

That  all  her  planks  in  pieces  nigh  we  broke. 

Then,  tossing  like  a  cork  upon  the  waves, 

Her  mighty  host  against  my  bulwarks  brought 

Her  light  artillery,  and  all  her  force ; 

And  tire  for  fire  we  fiercely  interchang'd. 

So  both  together  ylike  felly)bent, 

Like  fiercely  met;  but  I  at  last  was  stronger, 


500  The  Spanish  Armada. 


And  though  at  last  by  force  I  couquer'd  her, 

Yet  she,  like  hound  full  greedy  of  his  prey, 

Being  impatient  of  impediment, 

Continu'd  still  her  course  and  at  us  ran, 

Who,  seeing  her  come  still  so  fiercely  on, 

Against  her  made  amain  with  furious  might. 

At  last  dull  weariness  of  former  fight, 

Having  y-rock'd  asleep  her  hardy  sp right, 

She  ever  then  did  list  to  make  her  irksome  flight, 

And  every  way  did  try,  but  all  in  vain ; 

Which  being  shown,  we  'gan  ourselves  straightway 

Upon  the  bulwarks  of  her  hold  to  play 

Volleys  of  ordnance,  till  a  breach  was  made, 

'Gainst  which  she  saw  no  means  to  be  defended  ; 

And  speedily  she  pull'd  her  colours  down. 

"'Then  all  at  once  the  Hercules  came  on, 
And  running  straight  into  the  thickest  fight 
Did  warn  his  foe  to  battle  soon  be  prest, 
And  with  his  club  him  smote  with  greedy  force ; 
But  ere  his  stroke  attained  his  intent, 
Or  deep  embowl'd  was  in  middle  part. 
E'en  as  his  hand  was  heaved  up  on  high, 
Th'  J^eUo  him  did  meet  in  th'  middle  fall, 
Preventing  his  desire,  beat  back  his  club, 
And  foilM  thus  the  foe  of  easy  prey. 
Bat  fortune  did  not  with  his  will  conspire, 
For  soon  the  Hejccules  with  greater  speed, 
Upon  him  turned,  and  with  greedy  force 
And  fury  to  be  crossed  in  this  way, 
Without  remorse,  did  rush  full  furious 
To  be  aveng'd  on  him  and  to  redress; 
Encount'ring  fierce,  with  puissance  at  him  flew, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  501 

And,  threatening  high,  his  dreadful  stroke  did  pass. 
Him  thought  at  first  encounter  to  defeat, 
But  wise  and  wary  was  his  noble  foe, 
And,  'scaping  him,  made  quickly  a  retreat. 

" '  Then,  when  as  cheerless  night  ycover'd  had 
Fair  heaven  with  an  universal  cloud, 
That  every  sight  dismay'd  with  darkness  sad, 
The  fleets  resting  from  battle  and  from  weary  fight, 
In  silence  and  deep  sleep  did  shroud  themselves. 
As  soon  as  day,  forth  dawning  from  the  east, 
Night's  humid  curtain  from  the  heavens  withdrew, 
And,  early  calling  forth  both  man  and  beast, 
Commanded  them  their  daily  works  renew, 
These  noble  warriors,  mindful  to  pursue 
The  last  day's  purpose  of  their  vowed  fight, 
Themselves  thereto  prepar'd  in  order  due, 
To  fairly  try  whether  had  greater  might. 

" '  It  fortuned  out  of  the  thickest  fight 
The  ramping  Lion  rushed  suddenly, 
Hunting  full  greedy  after  savage  blood. 
Straight  down  the  Boar  ran,  like  an  enraged  cow, 
That  is  berobbed  of  her  youngling  dear; 
Against  him  turning  all  his  fell  intent, 
With  beastly  brutish  rage  'gan  him  assail, 
Like  to  a  fierce  boar,  that  being  busy  bent. 
To  fight  with  many  foes  about  him  ment. 
He  turns  about  with  fell  aveng&ment, 
And  he  against  his  power  'gan  to  prepare ; 
And  after  adding  more  impetuous  force, 
The  Lion  the  more  with  furious  rage  was  fir'd, 
Threat'ning  the  point  of  his  avenging  blade, 
With  full  intent  against  the  other  came. 


502  The  Spanish  Armada. 

The  mortal  steel  stay'd  not  till  it  was  seen 
To  gore  her  side,  yet  was  the  wound  not  deep, 
But  lightly  raz'd  her  body  broad  and  high. 
The  Boar  struck  at  him  with  more  manly  force, 
Resolv'd  in  mind  all  suddenly  to  win, 
Or  soon  to  lose  before  he  once  would  lin. 
But  when  he  saw  his  foe  not  hurt  at  all, 
He  turn'd  about  and  fled  away  apace. 

"'Enflam'd  with  fury  and  fierce  hardyhed, 
The  Dolphin  'gan  prepare  for  fight, 
And  of  his  puissance  trial  make  extreme. 
He  lightly  left  the  foe  with  whom  he  fought ; 
And  now  again  was  on  his  former  way, 
To  follow  his  first  quest,  whenas  he  spied 
The  Dog-fish  bold,  fighting  not  far  away, 
And  'gan  him  straight  to  buckle  to  the  fight ; 
And  therewithal  he  fiercely  at  him  flew, 
And  with  importun'd  outrage  him  assail'd. 
His  puissant  foe,  with  envious  despite, 
His  proud  presumed  force  increased  more, 
Disdaining  to  be  held  so  long  in  fight. 
The  Dog  prepared  soon  his  mighty  strokes, 
Half  in  amaze  with  'stonishment, 
And  half  in  rage  to  be  eluded  thus ; 
With  wrathful  fire  his  courage  kindl'd  bright, 
Thereof  devising  shortly  to  be  wroke, 
And,  doubling  all  his  powers,  redoubl'd  every  stroke, 
And  with  his  burdenous  blows  him  sore  did  overlade. 
At  that  they  all  upon  him  flew, 
And  struck  at  him  so  sternly  that  they  forc'd 
Him  backward  to  recoil,  forego  his  prey, 
And  to  betake  himself  to  fearful  flight. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  503 


All  suddenly  he  turned  wrathftflly, 

And  buckling  him  eftsoones  unto  the  fight, 

Rush'd  fiercely  forth  the  battle  to  renew; 

And  passing  through  with  furious  atfret, 

He  set  upon  those  ships  with  all  his  power  and  might. 

So  he  them  forced  backward  to  retreat 

Like  scatter'd  sheep,  in  vain  to  seek  for  safety. 

He  them  encount'red,  and  so  fiercely  chas'd 

He  them  defeated  in  victorious  fight ; 

And  them  dispers'd  in  a  confused  rout; 

And  whenas  all  were  put  to  shameful  flight, 

Therewith  enrag'd,  he  fiercely  at  them  flew, 

That  none  of  them  foul  mischief  could  eschew, 

But  with  those  dreadful  strokes  were  all  dismayed ; 

Yet  gathering  force,  with  courage  valorous, 

They  encount'red  him  in  battle  well-ordain'd. 

Nathless  he  fast  pursu'd  with  courage  stout, 

And  did  amongst  them  cruel  havoc  make, 

That  forc'd  their  leader,  for  his  safety's  sake, 

Forth  issue  and  away  him  to  betake, 

Leaving  the  Dolphin  to  his  victory. 

"'With  hugest  force  and  insupportable  main, 
The  Santa  Anna's  front  all  sturdy  came. 
Towards  her  at  once  with  dreadful  fury  prance 
Th'  Revenge,  Triumph,  Victory  and  Mary-Rose, 
Redoubted  battle  ready  to  darrayne. 
And  down  they  let  their  cruel  weapons  fall. 
Scarce  yielding  her  due  chance  of  timely  rest, 
With  cruel  rigour  her  did  much  molest, 
And  with  their  might  they  did  her  captive  keep. 
So  leave  we  her  in  wretched  thraldom  bound. 
Then  all  the  prisoners  which  they  here  had  hent, 


504  The  Spanish  An»-/.lii. 

Were  by  them  slain  by  general  consent. 

Where  shall  I  then  conclude  this  woful  tale? 

The  captain  of  that  ship  still  stronger  grew  through  strife, 

Though  himself  weaker  through  infirmity  ; 

And  fierce  he  did  appear  the  more  we  did  him  thresh, 

We  wist  not  how  him  to  despoil  of  life, 

Ne  how  to  win  the  wished  victory. 

His  fiery  eyes  with  furious  sparks  did  stare 

New  matter  adding  to  his  former  fire, 

Lightly  he  started  up  out  of  that  stound, 

With  blasphemous  banns  High  God  in  pieces  tare ; 

And,  snatching  forth  his  direful,  deadly  blade, 

Hurling  his  sword  away,  he  lightly  leapt 

Into  a  tender-ship  and  took  his  bloody  flag. 

Then,  Your  Grace,  I  with  my  ship  th'  Revenge, 

Advancing  swift  to  where  the  Triumph  lay, 

"With  respite  small  did  myself  address 

To  battle  and  the  weary  war  renew 

With  the  Saint  Martin,  who,  to  hardy  fight  inur'd, 

Disdain'd  to  yield  unto  the  first  assay. 

At  last,  when  long  she  struggl'd  had  in  vain, 

She  fled  away  in  ghastly  dreriment.' 

"'In  this  I  count  me  highly  gratified,' 
The  Queen  said,  when  she  had  heard  all  that  he  did  say ; 
'And  now,'  said  she,  '  it  draweth  toward  night, 
And  well  I  wote  that  of  your  later  fight 
Ye  all  forewearied  be ;  for  what  so  strong, 
But,  wanting  rest,  will  also  want  of  might? 
And  for  to  tell  their  lamentable  case, 
And  eke  this  battle's  end,  will  need  another  place. 
The  sun,  that  measures  heaven  all  day  long, 
At  night  doth  bate  his  steeds  the  ocean  waves  among. 


The  Spanish  Arm"'/ '.  505 

Then  with  the  sun  take,  sirs,  your  timely  rest, 
And  with  new  day  new  work  at  once  begin  ; 

Untroubled  night,  they  say,  gives  counsel  best.' 

"  The  morrow  next,  so  soon  as  dawning  light 
Bade  do  away  the  damp  of  drowsy  sleep, 
The  royal  lady  shook  off  drowsyhed, 
And,  raising  forth  out  of  her  noble  bow'r, 
She  caused  straight  a  trumpet  loud  to  shrill, 
To  warn  those  warriors  great  prepare  for  day — 
She  long  before  awake,  for  she  full  ill 
Could  sleep  all  night,  that  with  unquiet  breast 
Did  closely  harbour  such  distinguished  guests. 
So  forth  they  went,  the  dwarf  them  guided  ever  right. 
Now,  when  their  bodies  were  refresh'd  with  due  repast, 
They,  passing  by,  were  guarded  by  degree, 
Unto  the  presence  of  that  haughty  Queen  ; 
Who  sat  on  high,  in  dreaded  sovereignty 
And  princely  grace,  that  she  might  all  men  see 
And  might  of  all  men  royally  be  seen, 
Upon  a  throne  as  bright  as  sunny  day, 
Adorned  with  all  gems  of  endless  price, 
As  either  might  for  wealth  have  gotten  been, 
Or  could  be  fram'd  by  workman's  rare  device; 
And  all  emboss'd  with  lions  and  fleur-de-lice. 
Yet  her  bright  J>lazing  beauty  did  assay 
To  dim  the  brightness  of  her  glorious  throne, 
As  envying  herself,  that  too  exceeding  shone: 
Exceeding  shone,  like  Phoebus'  fairest  child, 
That  did  presume  his  father's  fiery  wain, 
And  flaming  mouths  of  steed  unwonted  wild, 
Through  highest  heaven  with  weaker  hand  to  rein, 


506  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Proud  of  such  glory  and  advancement  vain ; 
While  flashing  beams  do  daze  his  feeble  eye, 
He  leaves  the  welkin  way  most  beaten  plain, 
And,  rapt  with  whirling  wheels,  inflames  the  sky 
With  fire  not  made  to  burn,  but  fairly  for  to  shine. 
So  proud  she  shined  in  her  princely  state. 

"In  living  prince's  court  none  ever  knew 
Such  endless  riches  and  so  sumptuous  shew ; 
Ne  Persia's  self,  the  nurse  of  pompous  pride, 
Like  ever  saw;  for  there  a  noble  crew 
Of  lords  and  ladies  stood  on  every  side, 
And  with  their  presence  fair  the  place  much  beautified. 
High  above  all  a  cloth  of  state  was  spread, 
Like  to  the  walls,  which  were  on  every  side 
With  rich  array  and  costly  arras  dight. 
Within  the  hall  most  gorgeously  array'd 
An  infinite  sort  of  people  did  there  bide, 
Awaiting  long  to  win  the  wished  sight 
Of  her  that  was  the  lady  of  the  palace  bright. 
Her  lords  and  ladies  all  this  while  devise 
Themselves  to  setten  forth  to  strangers'  sight; 
Some  frounce  their  curled  hair  in  courtly  guise; 
Some  prank  their  ruff's ;  and  others  trimly  dight 
Their  gay  attire,  each  other's  greater  pride  to  spite. 

"Thereto  her  presence  were  the  brave  men  brought 
Who,  bowing  low  before  her  majesty, 
Did  do  her  mild  obedience,  as  they  ought. 
And  meekest  boon  that  they  imagine  mought; 
To  whom  she  eke  inclining  her  withal, 
As  a  fair  stoop  of  her  high-soaring  thought, 
A  cheerful  countenance  on  them  let  fall, 
Yet  temp'red  with  some  majesty  imperial. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  507 

As  the  bright  sun,  what  time  his  fiery  team 

Towards  the  western  brim  begins  to  draw, 

'Gins  to  abate  the  brightness  of  his  beam, 

And  fervor  of  his  flames  somewhat  adaw, 

So  did  this  mighty  lady,  when  she  saw 

Those  two  brave  warriors  such  homage  to  her  make, 

Bate  somewhat  of  that  majesty  and  awe 

That  whylorae  wont  to  do  so  many  quake, 

And  with  more  mild  respect  those  two  'gan  entertake. 

Whenas  they  now  approaching  near  to  her, 

She  not  confused  by  a  troublous  thought, 

Was  kindness  all  and  gentle  courtesy; 

Filled  with  courage  and  with  joyous  glee, 

And  glad  to  hear  of  arms  and  deadly  wars, 

She  bade  Drake  to  begin  and  open  bold 

That  she  the  faces  of  her  foes  might  see. 

" '  Great  glory  and  gay  spoil  sure  hast  thou  got, 
And  stoutly  prov'd  thy  puissance  here  in  fight, 
And  shew'd  the  ensample  of  thy  avenging  might. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  that  in  former  fight 
Thy  name  renowned  is  in  arms  and  derring-do, 
Of  thy  great  deeds  and  valorous  emprise, 
What  trophy  then  shall  I  most  fit  devise, 
In  which  I  may  record  the  memory 
Of  thy  conquest?     Name  thou  thine  own  reward.' 

"'  When  that  the  war  is  ended,  gracious  Queen, 
And  all  the  country  safe  from  rude  alarms, 
Then  mayst  thou  speak  of  honour.     Not  till  then.' 
For  entertainment  I  will  tell  thee  now 
Tidings  of  war  and  of  adventures  new, 
And  rattle  forth  the  facts  of  war  and  blood, 
Too  harsh  a  subject  for  thy  dainty  ears.' 


508  The  Spanish  Armada. 


" '  Nay,  nay,  say  on,  it  is  my  pride  to  hear.' 

"  He  stay'd  not  but  straight  to  his  story  went : — 

"'Magnificent  virgin  that  in  quaint  disguise 

Of  British  arras  dost  mask  thy  royal  blood, 

So  to  pursue  a  perilous  emprise, 

List  while  the  story  of  our  wars  I  tell. 

Yesterday  I  told  the  third  day's  fight. 

The  morrow  next  appear'd  with  purple  hair, 

Yet  dropping  fresh  out  of  the  Indian  fount, 

And  bringing  light  into  the  heavens  fair. 

Thenceforth  we  much  more  furiously  'gan  fare, 

As  if  but  then  the  battle  had  begun  ; 

And  on  our  foes  did  work  full  cruel  rack; 

And  did  not  our  wild  fiend-like  fury  slack, 

And  evermore  our  malice  did  augment. 

The  force  which  wont  in  two  to  be  dispers'd, 

In  one  attack  alone  we  now  unite, 

Which  is  through  rage  more  strong  than  both  were  erst. 

Thus  all  then,  quickly  running  to  our  prey, 

With  mortal  balls  them  smote  again  so  sore, 

That  like  a  sort  of  sheep  dispersed  far, 

For  dread  of  their  devouring  enemy, 

Some  fear'd  and  fled,  some  fear'd  and  well  it  feign 'd. 

The  sight  with  awful  fear  them  did  dismay, 

Ne  durst  approach  us  nigh  to  touch  or  once  assay. 

With  fair  disport  and  mirth  and  wanton  play, 

Without  regard  of  arms  and  dreadful  fight, 

Them  sore  we  vex'd  and  cours'd  and  overran, 

And  broke  their  bows  and  did  their  shooting  mar, 

That  none  of  all  the  many  once  did  dare 

Us  to  assault,  nor  once  approach  us  nigh, 

"'By  this  the  drooping  daylight  'gan  to  fade 


The  Spanish  Armada.  509 

And  yield  his  room  to  sad  succeeding  night, 

Who  with  her  sable  mantle  'gan  to  shade 

The  face  of  earth  and  ways  of  living  wight. 

Full  loth  was  I  the  battle  to  forego, 

And  gladly  would -I  have  combat  the  foe, 

For  that  the  enemy  (whose  sides  are  pierc'd 

With  wounds)  is  ready  to  yield  up  the  ghost, 

If  but  that  he  were  thereunto  enforc'd. 

But  night  would  not  such  courtesy  aiford 

To  me,  and  when  at  last  the  day  is  spent, 

Cover'd  with  darkness  and  misdeeming  night,   - 

We  go  our  ways,  being  loth  t  assay 

The  proof  of  battle  in  the  doubtful  dark, 

And  rest  us  for  the  morrow's  fearful  fray, 

Under  the  shadow  of  her  dusky  wing. 

See  how  the  night,  Ulysses  like,  comes  forth 

And  intercepts  the  day  by  far  too  soon. 

Ah  me !  the  stars  surpris'd  like  Rhesus'  steeds, 

Are  drawn  by  darkness  forth  Astraeus'  tents. 

Then  did  I  sigh  and  to  the  gods 'make  plaint; — 

'  O  when  will  glad  Day  turn  to  us  again, 

And  bring  with  him  his  long  expected  light, 

And  high  his  burning  torch  set  up  in  heaven  bright? 

O  Titan,  haste  to  rear  thy  joyous  wain  ! 

Speed  thee  to  spread  abroad  thy  brightest  beams, 

And  chase  away  this  too  long  lingering  Night. 

Chase  her  away  from  whence  she  came  to  hell, 

She,  she  it  is  that  hath  done  us  despite. 

There  let  her  with  the  damned  spirits  dwell 

And  yield  her  room  to  Day  that  can  it  govern  well ; 

For  Day  discovers  all  dishonest  ways, 

And  showeth  each  thing  as  it  is  indeed. 


510  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Day's  dearest  children  be  the  blessed  seed, 
Which  darkness  shall  subdue  and  heaven  win , 
Truth  is  his  daughter ;  he  her  first  did  breed, 
Most  sacred  virgin  without  spot  of  sin  ; 
Our  life  is  day,  but  death  with  darkness  doth  begin. 

"  *  The  joyous  day  'gan  early  to  appear, 
And  fair  Aurora  from  the  dewy  bed 
Of  aged  Tithone  'gan  herself  to  rear, 
With  rosy  cheeks  for  shame  as  blushing  red ; 
Her  golden  locks  for  haste  were  loosely  shed 
About  her  ears,  when  we  her  first  did  mark. 
With  dreadful  terror  and  with  fell  intent, 
The  Triumph  and  Ark  Royal  issue  forth ; 
The  trumpets  sound  and  they  together  go, 
And  their  huge  strokes  full  dangerously  bestow 
Upon  a  Spanish  ship,  which  lay  upon  one  «nd, 
And  'gan  herself  to  second  battle  bend 
As  hurt  she  had  not  been  ;  thereby  she  lay, 
But  sooricasthem  approaching  ehe  descried, 
'Gan  void  her  course;  at  which  so  sudden  haste 
Theywonder'd  and  prepared  themselves  to  fight 
Again;  through  both  the  sides  they  struck  her  quite, 
That  made  her  "hull  to  groan  full  piteous. 
Thereat  her  cannon  bray'd  and  loudly  yell'd, 
And  she  them  well  did  ward  'with  action  wise, 
And  'twixt  them  both  boldly  herself  did  cast. 
Our  ships  began  her  freshly  to  assail, 
And  more  they  did  increase  their  dreadful  fire. 
When  quite  o'erblown  was  this  brunt  of  fight, 
We  seized  on  her  as  our  lawful  prize. 

'"That  no  more  ought  our  passage  might  impeach, 
In  the  Revenge,  your  Highness,  I  came  first; 


The  Spanish  Armada.  511 


The  Victory  follow'd  for  the  fray  athirst; 

And  then,  as  in  the  lists  at  tournament, 

Or  like  the  three  Horatii  in  the  field, 

The  Hope  came  after;  then  the  Mary- Rose 

And  the  swift  sailing  sea-bird,  Nonpareil. 

Long  while  we  then  continued,  fighting  in  that  wise; 

Strokes,  wounds,  wards,  weapons,  all  we  did  despise; 

Which  whenas  all  the  lookers-on  beheld, 

It  was  so  exceeding  furious  and  fell, 

They  weened  sure  the  war  was  near  an  end.' 

"*  High  time  it  is  this  war  now  ended  be, 
Which  I  no  longer  can  endure  to  'sue ; 
For  still  when  fit  occasion  doth  betide, 
Philip  his  weapon  shifts  from  side  to  side, 
From  hand  to  hand,  and  with  such  nimbless  sly 
Doth  wield  about,  that  ere  it  is  espied, 
The  wicked  stroke  doth  wound  his  enemy 
Behind,  beside,  before,  as  he  at  list  apply — 
A  subtle,  cruel,  cunning,  shifting  knave, 
Whose  days  have  been  renowned  heretofore. 
His  mind  doth  change  from  one  to  other  ill, 
In  hope  to  win  occasion  to  his  will, 
For  which  he  hath  awaited  long  in  vain  ; 
Hard  fortune  him  did  hap,  as  ye  may  guess, 
To  come  where  Queen  Elizabeth  doth  reign. 
By  Jupiter,  I  swear,  in  plain  accent, 
To  hale  him  up  and  down  through  every  land. 
Not  those  whom  Caesar  led  through  th'  streets  of  Rome, 
The  captive  kings  of  nations  conquered, 
Were  persecuted  more  than  these  shall  be 
In  righteous  rigour  of  my  wrathful  will. 
But  Howard,  speak,  how  heavy  is  our  loss, 


512  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Since  your  departure  to  the  Spanish  wars  : ' 

"'Madam,  you  did  but  pocket  up  my  letters, 
And  heeded  not  when  I  did  ask  of  you 
To  lend  us  arms  and  aid,  when  I  requir'd  them. 
You  both  denied — neglected  rather  both — 
With  taunts  did  gibe  my  heralds  out  of  audience.' 

"  *  Sir,  sir,  thou  art  a  soldier ;  speak  no  more. 
For  Ida's  self,  in  aid  of  that  fierce  tight, 
Out  of  her  mountains  minist'red  supplies  ; 
And,  like  a  kindly  nurse,  did  yield  (for  spite) 
Store  of  fire-brands  out  of  her  nurseries 
Unto  her  foster-children,  that  they  might 
Inflame  the  navy  of  their  enemies, 
And  all  the  Spanish  fleet  to  ashes  turn, 
That  now  I  hope  floats  on  the  Irish  seas.' 

"  She  arm'd  her  tongue  and  thought  at  him  to  scold  ; 
Nathless  her  tongue  not  to  her  will  obey'd, 
But  brought  forth  speeches  mild,  when  she  would  have 

missaid, 

Joyous  to  see  him  safe  after  long  toil. 
But  even  when  his  visage  she  beheld, 
Her  hand  fell  down,  and  would  no  longer  hold 
The  wrathful  weapon  'gainst  his  countenance  bold, 
For  sovereign  hope,  which  in  his  help  she  had ; 
'Mongst  joys  mixing  some  tears,  'mongst  weal  some  woe. 
Him  thus  bespake:  'O  most  redoubted  knight, 
Right  faithful  true  thou  art  in  deed  and  word, 
What  guerdon  can  I  give  thee  for  thy  pains'.' ' 

"He  said:  '  Dear  lady,  deeds  should  not  be  scann'd 
By  th'  author's  manhood,  nor  the  doer's  might, 
But  by  their  truth  and  by  the  cause's  right; 
That  same  it  is  which  fought  for  you  this  war. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  513 


What  other  meed,  then,  need  me  requite, 

But  that  which  yieldeth  Virtue's  meed  alway? 

That  is,  the  Virtue's  self,  which  her  reward  doth  pay.' 

"  She  humbly  thank'd  him  for  that  wondrous  grace, 
And  further  said;  'Ah  sir,  but  mote  ye  please, 
Sith  ye  have  thus  far  tend'red  my  good  case, 
As  from  my  chiefest  foe  me  to  release, 
That  your  victorious  arm  will  not  yet  cease, 
Till  ye  have  rooted  all  the  relics  out 
Of  that  vile  race  and  'stablished  my  peace/ 

"'What  is  there  else/  said  he, '  left  of  their  rout? 
The  tempest,  that  by  act  of  God  blew  up 
The  roaring  waters,  hath  ensteep'd  their  pride 
In  great  huge  mountains  of  the  salt,  green  sea, 
And  with  surges  drawn  from  their  native  seat, 
He  doth  their  keels  enclogg.     The  happy  tempest 
By  darkest  clouds  obscur'd  the  Sun  himself, 
And  on  their  heads  did  belch  the  pains  of  hell ; 
The  bastards  of  the  Night,  and  Erebus'  black  fiends — 
Furies  and  hags — rang'd  through  the  foggy  air, 
And  with  their  whips,  for  Christ  and  England  fought. 
The  bull-bellowing  Pope,  who  rageth  now 
I'  th'  West — that  fierce  three-headed  Cerberus — 
Hath  play'd  his  part,  but  the  Almighty  taught 
The  depth  of  rightful  doom.     He  hath  upbrought 
To  seat  of  judgment,  all  our  enemies, 
And  this  most  powerful  fleet  destroyed  and  dispers'd. 
Long  'twere  to  tell  the  troublous  storms  that  tost 
On  angry  seas  the  enemies  of  thy  peace  ; 
By  flying  force  the  discontented  skies, 
Hence  have  them  drave  across  the  inland  seas 
To  Ireland  and  thence  to  Spain.     Water,  earth, 


514  The- Spanish  Armada. 

Fire  and  air — all  causes  have  conspir'd 

T"  preserve,  dear  Queen,  thine  empire  and  thy  crown. 

So  let  your  sacred  Majesty  look  up 

Steadfastly  unto  God,  whose  quarrel  just  this  is, 

And  from  whom  cometh  both  the  will  and  deed.' 

"'The  flicking  skies  like  flying  pursuivants 
Against  foul  fiend,  to  aid  us  militant, 
For  us  do  fight,  they  us  do  watch  and  duly  ward, 
And  their  bright  squadrons  round  about  us  plant, 
And  all  for  love  and  nothing  for  reward. 
0,  why  should  Heavenly  God  to  men  have  such  regard? 
And  as  afoul  and  noxious  odour, 
Spain's  fleeting  glory  turn  to  infamy? 
But  come,  tell  now  thy  piteous  tale  of  war. 
Describe. the  same  unto  the  listening  Court, 
And,'  said  the   Queen, '  I,  joyful  as  th'  gods 
When  Orpheus  with  his  harp  their  strife 
In  heaven  did  bar,  will  sit  and  hear.' 

"'List  then,  0  gracious  Queen  and  gentle  lords. 
After  the  long-wished  for  Armada 
(Called  Invincible)  with  sound  of  fame, 
Upon  our  England's  war-like  coast  arriv'd, 
I  and  my  martial  mates  in  company, 
Sailed  away  t'  destroy  and  sink  the  same. 
Through  the  wide  world  of  wild,  watery  seas, 
At  dead  midnight  we  push'd  away  in  haste, 
For,  while  sweet  Cynthia  still  doth  steep  and  wash 
In  silver  dew,  Tethys'  salt  drooping  head, 
In  quietness  and  silence  do  they  pass 
Right  well  instructed  to  their  deadly  work. 
Swift  in  pursuit  we,  angry,  fared  forth, 
And  fiercely  unto  battle  stern  prepar'd. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  515 

The  largest  British  ships  in  middle  space, 

"With  horrible  assault  and  fury  fell, 

In  cruel  combat  join'd  at  angle  right, 

One  horn  of  th'  Spanish  sharp-pointed  moon. 

But  pardon  me,  O  sovereign  lad}'  Queen, 

That  I  return  again  to  my  own  speech, 

For  in  these  strange  ways  never  foot  did  use, 

And  none  can  footing  find  who  was  not  taught  by  Muse.' 

" '  Certes,  I  like  such  sweet  variety 
Of  all  that  pleasant  is  to  eye  and  ear.' 

"'By  reason  of  the  sharpness  of  their  bow,  their 
packet  boats,  called  Caravels,  which  were  built  entirely 
for  speed,  make  greater  way  than  do  their  larger  galleys 
and  carracts,  because  the  motion  at  the  vessel's  head  doth 
draw  the  ship  along,  while  the  motion  at  the  stern  but 
pushes  her,  and,  therefore,  these  ships  are  sharpened  at 
the  point,  that  they  may  not  catch  too  much  wind,  and 
are  used  principally  where  there  is  little  wind. 

"'The  proportion  of  sails  and  masts  vary,  not  only 
according  to  the  size,  but  also  according  to  the  various 
purposes  for  which  they  are  built,  as  whether  for  war, 
traffic,  speed,  and  the  like ;  but  the  dimensions  of  the  sails 
is  in  no  way  proportional  to  the  tonnage  of  the  vessel,  for 
a  vessel  of  five  hundred  tons,  or  thereabouts,  will  carry 
the  main-sail  of  its  main-mast  only  a  few  square  feet  less 
than  the  other,  which  is  twice  the  size;  and  hence  it  is 
that  small  vessels  sail  much  faster  than  large  ones,  not 
only  by  reason  of  their  lightness,  but  by  reason  of  the  size 
of  their  sails  in  comparison  with  the  body  of  the  ship;  for 
if  this  proportion  were  kept  in  large  vessels  the  sails 
would  be  too  large  and  unmanageable.  The  above  men- 
tioned vessels,  sharpened  and  pointed,  must  necessarily  be 


516  The  Spanish  Armada. 

better  propelled  by  the  motion  of  the  wind  than  the 
blunt,  shortened  and  larger  vessels,  because  the  waves  are 
most  easily  divided  by  the  smaller  vessel's  pointed  bows. 

"'Our  shipping  for  number,  strength,  mariners, 
pilots,  and  all  things  that  appertain  to  navigation,  were 
wonderfully  well  kept,  so  that  we  handled  them  much 
faster  by  four  sails  than  the  Spaniards  did  theirs  by  eight 
sails  of  double  breadth. 

" '  The  sides  of  their  large  vessels  with  a  capacious 
round  tower,  completely  shut  up  on  every  side  in  the 
center,  presents  a  great  hold  to  the  wind,  so  that  they 
turn  crossways  in  the  English  Channel,  being  robbed  of 
motion  by  opposite  and  contrary  currents;  thus  they  were 
driven  along  in  mad  fury,  contrariwise,  as  the  water  on 
the  top,  or  sometimes  that  below,  moved  the  quickest, 
and  according  as  the  light,  feeble  wind  blew,  all  turn 
their  sides  one  to  another  and  in  contrary  direction;  each 
beyond  control  of  sails  and  helm,  turn  to  the  wind  and 
out  of  their  course:  thus  they  sideways  proceed,  and  scud 
over  the  waves  as  if  distracted,  then  by  angular  move- 
ment they  bear  up  again.  The  hindermost  must  needs 
steal  all  the  wind  from  those  before  them,  and  this  makes 
them  so  slack,  that  they  drive  through  the  sea  like  the 
new  moon  with  sharp  horns;  so,  as  the  boats  stood  all  as 
in  a  semicircle,  their  light  boats  graduallly  moved  by  the 
wind,  turned  away  it  might  be  some  mile  in  front;  this 
broken  circle  was  a  marvellous  sight,  at  which-the  people 
of  the  city,  gather  together  as  in  a  theatre  upon  the  sands, 
beholding  'gan  to  wonder,  and  put  themselves  into  small 
boats,  so  as  they  might  move  about  to  get  a  better  view 
of  so  strange  a  spectacle,  but  did  not  approach  near.  I 
do  testify  and  declare  that  we  never  heard  tell  of  any 


The  Spanish  Armada.  517 


ships  of  theirs,  that  have  been  seen  to  arrive  upon  any 
shore  of  Europe,  nor  of  either  the  East  or  West  Indies, 
nor  yet  of  any  ship  of  any  other  part  of  the  world 
in  the  least  like  them.  That  men  should  commit  such 
arks  to  the  floods  of  the  sea,  was  wonderful  to  us,  since 
our  boats  are  not  great,  indeed,  but  well  built.  We  were 
thinking  every  minute  they  would  land,  they  came  so 
close  to  the  shore ;  this  gave  the  people  on  the  adjacent 
wharves  of  the  city  a  good  view,  but  terrified  and  dis- 
turbed them  much.  It  so  fell  out  that  there  was  after- 
ward found  a  scroll,  in  which  were  written  in  Spanish 
these  words:  "Land  ye  not,  none  of  you;  if  you  want 
fresh  water  or  victuals  or  help  for  your  sick,  or  that  your 
ships  need  repair,  write  down  ycur  wants  and  you  shall 
have  that  which  belongeth  to  mercy."  These  were  the 
King's  orders  to  his  Admiral. 

" '  It  was  well  for  them  that  they  met  with  calms  and 
contrary  wind  rather  than  any  tempests,  because  of  the 
shape  of  their  ships,  which  violent  winds  or  storms 
endanger  the  sinking  or  upsetting  of  them,  principally 
because  the  wind  is  most  powerful  in  the  upper  tier  of 
sails,  being  furtherest  removed  from  the, resistance.  This 
afterwards  did  appear  most  strikingly  in  the  storm  that 
struck  them  in  the  open  sea. 

"  'Although  there  was  no  great  wind  at  this  time,  the 
sea  itself  was  beating  with  a  moaning  or  echo  louder  and 
clearer  than  usual ;  foam,  white  circles  of  froth  or  bub- 
bles of  water  (a  glittering  foam  called  sea-lung)  were  here 
and  there  to  be  seen ;  the  sea  was  swelling  and  rising 
higher  than  usual  in  the  harbour;  water-fowl  were  meet- 
ing and  flocking  together;  sea-gulls  and  coots  flying 
rapidly  from  the  shore  to  the  sea;  the  tide  was  coming  in 


518  The  Spanish  Armada. 


quicker  than  ordinary;  the  ball  fire  called  Castor  by  tbe 
ancients,  which  prognosticates  a  storm,  appeared  rolling 
or  dancing  about  on  the  waves;  clouds  were  collected 
near  the  sun  at  sunrise,  and  fleecy  clouds  were  scattered 
over  the  sky,  all  of  which  portended  the  approaching 
storm. 

" '  Suddenly  a  breeze  sprang  up  which  soon  increased 
to  a  great  and  strong  wind;  clay-coloured  and  muddy 
clouds  (whose  damps  blind  the  soul)  overcast  the  sky  and 
sun.  The  wind  commenced  from  the  north  and  east,  and 
blew  for  a  short  time  contrary  to  the  motion  of  the  sun; 
it  changed  from  north  to  west,  then  from  west  to 
south,  from  south  to  east,  then  back  returning  to  the 
former  quarter,  it  completed  the  entire  circle  before  the 
rain  fell;  then  it  increased  in  violence  to  a  whirlwind; 
thunder,  lightning  and  rain  burst  forth  as  if  from  differ- 
ent quarters  of  the  sky;  the  great  thunder-claps,  being 
frequently  interrupted  by  severe  and  dreadful  lightning, 
were  followed  by  heavy  showers  of  large  hail.  Fog  called 
belluae,  rising  up  like  pillars  from  the  sea,  were  hoisted 
from  thence  aloft  unto  the  clouds,  and  obscured  in  places 
the  light  of  the  day.  It  seemed  as  if  Jove  upon  his  judg- 
ment seat  did  threat,  in  wrath  and  cruel  vengeance,  the 
world's  decay.  War  was  made  on  Neptune,  by  Aeolus 
and  his  train,  so  that  on  every  coast,  men  were  ship- 
wrecked or  swallowed  up  in  open  sea.  Such  as  reached 
the  shore  were  beaten  with  despair.  In  all  my  life  I  never 
knew  the  like.  It  rained,  it  hailed,  it  snowed,  it  lightened 
all  at  once.  The  surge  of  old  Oceanus,  was  like  the  battle- 
ments that  compassed  high-built  Babel  to  the  towers. 
Vales  with  floods  were  made  waste,  and  hills  with  light- 
ning scorched. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  519 


"  'About  evening  we  saw  within  a  kenning  before  us 
towards  the  north,  an  utterly  unknown  ship,  and  after  an 
hour  and  a  half  sailing,  the  ship  ran  by  us;  her  sails 
weighed  her  down  in  the  heavy  storm,  and  they  (her  sail- 
ors) first  lower  the  yards  and  furl  the  top-sails;  as  soon 
as  they  discern  the  flat  land,  which  did  full  of  boscage 
show  dark,  they  take  down  all  the  rest  of  the  sails,  cut 
down  the  masts  and  throw  overboard  their  cargo,  guns, 
etc.,  to  lighten  the  ship,  that  she  may  float  and  follow  the 
motion  of  the  waves.  Contrary  to  their  theory,  that  they 
thus  ought  to  stay  and  slugxthe  ship  from  further  sailing, 
she  did  sail  faster  with  the  side  wind  than  with  all  her 
sails;  because  her  sides,  piled  in  several  tiers  or  stories 
one  above  the  other,  are  very  far  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  and  the  wind  blows  against  the  slanting  side, 
and,  as  she  is  higher  at  the  stern  than  at  the  head, 
the  ship  in  consequence  did  sail  straight  backwards; 
seeing  this,  the  provident  men  (who  have  but  one  last 
and  feeble  resource  to  resist  the  tempest)  exercise  them- 
selves to  avoid  shipwreck  by  tacking.  The  low  sails, 
used  as  feathers  or  wings  from  the  center  of  the  ship, 
were  the  smallest  ones  that  the  ship  used,  and  therefore 
when  the  mariners  raised  them,  and  by  certain  knots  and 
joints  fixed  them  in  their  place,  they  indisputably  had 
done  all  that  human  industry  could  do;  but  the  foul  and 
stormy  weather  resolved  to  effect  their  wrack,  and  the 
wind  came  about  and  settled  upon  the  north  with  a. point 
west,  which  carried  them  towards  the  land;  when  they 
saw  that  the  wind  was  enforcing  them  on  the  rocks,  they 
gave  themselves  up  for  lost  men  and  prepared  for  death. 

" '  There  was  never  any  army  had  their  men  stand  in 
better  battle  array  than  these  people  stood,  for  they  all 


520  The  Spanish  Armada. 


collected  around  a  monk  that  was  on  their  ship.  When 
he  beheld  the  land,  he  elevated  the  cross,  upon  which  our 
Saviour  in  like  manner  was,  by  charge  or  command  of 
the  people,  spread  in  the  form  of  the  letter  T.  As  he 
raised  the  likeness  of  our  Saviour  up  towards  heaven, 
after  the  manner  of  the  ascension,  the  apish  crew,  on 
knee,  kissed  his  hand.  They  do  not  neglect  to  make  way, 
for  two  or  three  of  their  number  set  the  sails  upon  the 
spare  mast,  and  the  rest  were  seen  to  serve  the  ropes,  and 
draw  and  turn  them  to  either  side.  With  regard  to  the 
prevention  of  their  coming  to  land,  when  the  boats  were 
come  within  about  sixty  yards  of  the  shore,  I  passed  her, 
and  rashly  'twixt  her  and  the  sharp  rocks  (which  might 
well  have  kept  me  back)  I  passed  and  put  my  ship  for 
our  good  cause,  to  withstand  this  most  injurious  foe,  be- 
side the  same ;  from  either  ship  the  grapples  fly,  and  thus 
entoiled,  they  were  compelled  to  render  themselves  up 
without  striking  a  stroke.  Then  from  the  ship  removing 
all  her  people  (who  came  aboard  my  vessel)  I  sunk  the 
Spaniard.  The  winds  blew  till  they  wakened  death,  and 
our  labouring  bark  climed  hills  of  seas  Olympus  high,  and 
ducked  again  as  low  as  hell's  from  heaven.  Being  nigh 
the  port  of  Good  Haven,  we  entered  in  and  took  refuge 
from  the  waves  that  rise  to  heaven  and  sink  to  hell ;  fin- 
ally the  storm  within  the  gulf  of  greedy  Nereus  sunk  and 
a  gentle  cairn  succeeded. 

*.* '  Proud  Neptune  had  called  his  Tritons  forth, 
To  cover  all  the  ocean  with  a  calm, 
As  after  every  tempest  such  doth  come, 
And  gazing  on  the  earth,  the  gladsome  sun 
Had  quieted  the  world  and  had  dispers'd 
By  th'  benefit  of  his  light  those  vapours  dark 


The  Spanish  Armada.  521 


That  here  and  there  had  sorely  us  offended, 

Till  'round  about  they  roll'd  in  clouds  to  heaven. 

Betokening  peace,  and  that  all  earthly  storms 

Shall  turn  to  calms  and  timely  clear  away. 

And  now  no  wind  at  all  doth  blow, 

The  sky,  like  glass  of  watch't  hue, 

Reflecteth  Phoebus'  golden  hair, 

And  cloudy  welkin  cleareth  fair. 

Then  sweetly  blows  a  gale  at  west  south-west, 

J    And,  as  the  wind  doth  serve,  sailors  convey 

i         /  ••4*£  = 

Our  budgets  straight  aboard,  and  Lordlings,  -airiM*/ 1*»«^  j 

Our  yards  across,  our  anchors  at  the  pike, 

We  take  this  merry  gale  as  it  doth  rise, 

And  through  the  moving  ocean  furrow  straight. 

The  fair  Triones  with  their  glimmering  light, 

Smil'd  at  the  foot  of  clear  Bootes'  wain, 

And  in  the  north,  distinguishing  the  hours, 

When  to  the  seas,  with  blitheful  western  blasts, 

We  sail'd  amain  and  let  the  bowling  fly. 

Scarce  had  we  gone  ten  leagues  from  sight  of  land, 

When  lo,  an  host  of  black  and  sable  clouds, 

'Gan  to  eclipse  Lucina's  silver  face, 

And  with  a  hurling  noise  from  forth  the  south, 

A  gust  of  wind  did  rear  the  billows  up. 

"'  Then  scanted  we  our  sails  with  speedy  hands, 
And  took  our  drablerts  from  our  bonnets  straight, 
And  severed  our  bonnets  from  our  course.     V 
Our  top-sails  up,  we  truss  our  sprit-sails  in, 
And  then  the  black,  dark  clouds  that  towards  the  north 
Fast  drive,  disperse,  and  at  the  sunset  hour 
V  Ring  round  the  sun,  which  muffled  with  a  cloud 
Black  as  foul  pitch,  portends  a  furious  gale. 


f#- 

st?^  ^^^^t^)  ^^^4^<^^t^ 


522  The  Spanish  Armada. 


"  'After  the  sun  had  sunk  i'  th'  western  wave, 
That  very  night,  the  rough  impetuous  wind 
Tossed  our  ship — 0,  mortal  tale  to  tell! — 
Till,  all  at  once,  our  sails  were  split  in  twain 
By  Boreas'  bitter  blast,  our  rudder  broke, 
And  we,  bereft  of  hope,  did  helpless  drift. 
What  strange  encounters  on  the  sea  one  meets ! 
'Twas  thus  our  bark  was  battered  by  the  floods, 
And  now  the  blust'ring  blast  each  coast  did  scour; 
The  thunder  from  the  clouds  again  did  burst ; 
Such  thunderbolts  no  man  could  think  to  bear, 
As  if  Almighty  Jove  was  thus  inclin'd 
To  wreak  in  wrath  the  guilt  of  mortal  sins. 
The  mountains  shook,  the  rivers  turn'd  their  streams, 
And  grisly  ghosts  were  seen,  and  fiery  gleams. 
How  could  I  sail  upon  the  raging  deep, 
Rudder  nor  tackling  having  for  my  ship? 
What!  would  the  gods  have  me,  Ducalion  like, 
Float  up  and  down  where'er  the  billows  drive? 

"  When  the  sun  rose  next  day,  the  sea  so  tost 
And  did  so  agitate  and  vex  our  spirits, 
Our  bodies,  and  our  souls,  that  all  our  men 
Were  melancholy,  sad  and  lumpish  grown, 
And  much  dejected.     Some,  already  mad, 
Raved  downright  against  the  tempest's  power; 
They  at  each  other  tyrannously  flew, 
Ne  ought  the  water  cooled  their  hot  blood, 
But  rather  in  them  kindled  choler  new, 
And  very  much  reproachful  blasphemy. 
They  mourn'd,  their  hands  they  wrung,  their  forms  they 

wound 
Into  strange  shapes  of  deep  and  utter  sorrow. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  523 

Tears  from  their  eyes  did  fall,  as  when  dames  watch 
A  dead  corse  that's  prepar'd  for  fuueral. 
Depriv'd  of  reason  good  and  judgment,  all, 
"With  mad  cruelty  they  made  'way  themselves. 

" '  Now  I  remember'd  those  old  women's  words, 
That  tell  of  spirits  and  of  ghosts  that  glide  by  night, 
About  the  place  where  treasure  hath  been  hid. 
And  spirits  evil  which  th'  tempests  foretell, 
With  those  that  power  have  the  sea  to  drive. 
The  devil  his  opportunity  often  takes 
Of  storms,  and  when  the  spirits  and  humours 
In  our  bodies  are  stirr'd,  with  them  he  goes. 

" '  Some  hold  sea-faring  men  to  be  all  mad — 
The  mariners,  who  do  themselves  expose 
To  such  dangers  so  truly  imminent; 
The  ship,  also,  as  it  ne'er  standeth  still; 
The  waters  in  motion  perpetual ; 
The  winds,  too,  are  as  mad  as  are  the  rest, 
Knowing  not  whence  they  come  nor  whither  go ; 
An  argument  to  persuade  them  that  will  not 
Believe,  that  spirits  or  devils  there  be 
Who  whirlwinds  cause  in  storms  tempestuous. 

" '  Unto  despair  I  now  began  to  grow 
And  wish'd  for  better  winds  to  'gin  to  blow. 
For  Phoebus'  gladsome  rays  I  long'd  in  vain, 
While  yet  the  thunder  rent  the  clouds  in  twain, 
And  the  fair  welkin,  foully  overcast, 
Did  blow  a  bitter,  cruel,  stormy  blast, 
With  show'r  and  hail  both  horrible  and  dread. 
Our  shipmen  now  the  angry  gusts  do  fear, 
As  in  the  waters,  death  they  see  so  near ; 
Their  valiant  courage  could  not  daunted  be, 


524  The  Spanish  Armada. 

With  all  the  men-at-arms  of  Africa, 

But  now  their  sturdy  hearts  are  shaken  sore. 

To  heaven  we  toss  upon  the  billows'  crests, 

Then  from  our  balance  drop  to  hell  below; 

While  thund'ring  Jove,  that  high  in  heaven  doth  dwell, 

Doth  bare  his  sweaty  forehead  to  the  storm ; 

And  raging  seas  the  boisterous  winds  do  plough. 

Did  ever  men  a  storm  so  fearful  see, 

So  arm'd  with  thunderbolts  and  lightning  fire, 

That  rends  the  skies  and  fills  our  souls  with  dread? 

"'At  last  the  storm  is  past,  the  seas  are  calm'd, 
And  Cynthia  with  Phoebus'  borrowed  beams, 
Doth  show  her  beauty  through  the  pitch  dark  clouds. 
Aurora  half  so  fair  herself  did  never  show, 
When  from  old  Tithon's  bed  she  weeping  did  arise, 
And  rear  out  of  the  sea  her  dewy  face. 
Now  Phosbus  with  his  beams  doth  clear  the  skies, 
And  earthly  vapors,  gather'd  in  the  air, 
Are  mounting  up  again  from  whence  they  came. 
Gather'd  in  one,  to  heaven  they  do  aspire, 
And,  in  a  wat'ry  cloud  display  afar 
The  goodly  bow,  which  paints  the  liquid  air — 
A  sign  of  peace  not  of  revenging  war. 

"'  Tost  in  the  tempest  long  without  a  helm, 
On  seas  by  Neptune  noised  to  the  heavens, 
In  whose  so  dangerous,  gaping,  greedy  jaws, 
We  well  might  have  engulfed  been  forever. 
Spending  'most  all  her  masts  and  her  ground-hold, 
Our  ship  was  well  nigh  wreck'd  in  main  seas  fell, 
But  we,  to  rig  her  up  again  did  take 
Such  pains,  that  thus  we  made  her  whole  and  sound. 
Our  main-yards  were  with  flying  canvas  lin'd, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  525 

In  which  did  gather  full  the  gentle  wind; 
Mild  Zephyr's  help  we  had  for  our  avail, 
And  with  our  hands  made  fast  the  swelling  sail ; 
Our  tackling,  too,  we  made  both  toftland  tight, 
Then  saiFd  as  shoots  a  star  in  winter's  night. 
Thus  we  did  richly  rig  up  all  our  bark, 
More  brave  than  was  the  gallant  Grecian  keel, 
That  brought  away  the  Colchian  fleece  of  gold. 
Now  favours  sparkle  from  the  smiling  heavens, 
As  through  the  deep  seas  cuts  our  bounding  bark, 
And  having  brooked  Neptune's  haughty  pride, 
With  joy  we  hear  his  swelling  waters  sound; 
The  tempest  overpast,  now  gentle  calms  ensue, 
For  gloomy  Eolus  hath  ceas'd  to  frown, 
And  send  his  winds  from  out  his  hidden  treasure, 
Upon  the  sea  to  wreak  his  full  intent. 

"'Throughout  the  day  the  floods  do  well  attend 
On  Neptune,  sovereign  sole  of  all  the  sea, 
Where  he  doth  rule  alone  and  judgment  execute. 
He  rightful  doth  pretend  his  cause  to  be — 
That  unto  him,  alone,  doth  appertain 
Award  of  death.     The  wrathful  winds  are  whist; 
The  heavens  have  wrought  their  fury  and  are  calm ; 
But  he  in  whom  such  cruelty  ingenerate  is, 
Not  satisfied  with  all  the  goodly  ships 
And  human  creatures,  lying  deeply .drown'd, 
Doth  heap  high  waves  of  weary  wretchedness, 
And  sorely  beat  and  gore  the  sides  of  ships 
That  all  unequal  are  for  service  meet, 
But -still  at  random  range  upon  the  deep, 
Unable  this  encounter  to  sustain.'. 

"'But,  Captain  Drake,  what  saw  you  of  the  storm? 


526  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Have  you  not,  too,  a  woful  tale  to  tell?' 

" '  Most  gracious  Sovereign,  fair  England's  Queen, 
Pray  let  me  set  before  your  eyes,  in  brief, 
The  Spaniards'  madness  most  incredible, 
And  folly  great.     The  course  they  chose  for  flight, 
Lay  through  a  sea  to  sudden  storms  inclin'd, 
And  full  of  shelving  rocks,  of  gulfs  and  shoals, 
Which  threatn'd  misery  unspeakable. 
While  weather  serv'd  and  wind,  they  safely  sail'd ; 
Still  as  they  fled,  their  eyes  they  backward  turn'd 
As  fearing  evil  that  pursued  them  fast 
In  figure  of  our  dauntless  English  fleet. 
The  second  day  of  flight  was  well  nigh  spent, 
Before  the  Royal  ships  gave  up  the  chase 
And  headed  for  the  shore.     In  haste  they  sail, 
For  lo,  a  darksome  cloud  in  west  appears, 
And  tempest  threatens  them  to  overtake 
Ere  that  they  can  in  harbor  safe  arrive. 
The  wrathful  western  wind  with  cruel  breath, 
So  quick  o'ercast  the  sky  with  threatning  clouds, 
That  view  of  eye  could  scarce  him  overtake, 
Till  he  by  fatal  doom  adown  did  fall, 
"With  wildest  fury  on  the  Spanish  fleet. 

"'The  clouds,  as  things  afraid,  before  the  wind  do  fly; 
But  all  so  soon  as  his  outrageous  power 
Is  on  them  laid,  unable  now  to  bear 
So  great  a  weight,  do  forth  their  malice  pour 
In  drenching  rain  and  flashing  thunderbolt, 
T'  appease  the  angry  wind.     At  the  touch 
Of  his  heavy  hand,  the  enraged  sea 
Like  an  infernal  fiend,  with  loud  uproar, 
Threatened  his  power  to  disperse,  till  that 


The  Spanish  Armada.  627 


Both  seera'd  to  win,  and  both  seem'd  won  to  be, 

So  hard  the  discord  was  to  be  agreed. 

What  not  by  right,  the  eea  did  seek  by  guile 

To  win,  but  vain  are  her  enchantments,  for  naught 

May  now  abide  the  rigour  of  his  blasts. 

The  wind,  his  wondrous  greatness  more  to  increase, 

Now  belches  forth  a  roaring,  hideous  sound, 

That  all  the  air  with  terror  filleth  wide. 

"  '  With  a  faint  shadow  of  uncertain  light, 
Such  as  a  lamp  whose  light  doth  fade  away, 
Or  as  the  moon,  clothed  with  cloudy  night, 
Doth  show  to  him  that  walks  in  fear  and  sad  affright — 
The  daylight  disappear'd,  and  drooping  night, 
Cover'd  with  cloudy  storm  and  bitter  shower, 
That  dreadful  seern'd  to  every  living  wight, 
Upon  them  fell  before  her  timely  hour. 
Thereat  they  greatly  were  dismay'd,  ne  wist 
How  to  direct  their  course  in  darkness  wide; 
But  fear'd  to  wander  in  that  wasteful  mist, 
For  tumbling  into  mischief  unespied. 
The  waves  came  rolling,  and  the  billows  roar'd 
Outrageously,  as  they  enraged  were, 
Or  wrathful  Neptune  did  them  drive  before 
His  whirling  charet,  for  exceeding  fear. 

" '  The  heavens  on  every  side  enclouded  be ; 
Black  storms  'and  fogs  are  blowen  up  from  far, 
Till  now  the  pilot  can  no  loadstar  see, 
For  skies  and  seas  do  make  most  dreadful  war- 
The  "billows  striving  to  the  heavens  to  reach, 
And  the  heavens  striving  them  to  impeach. 
The  sky,  in  pieces  seeming  to  be  rent, 
Throws  lightning  forth,  and  hail,  and  "harmful  showers, 


528  The  Spanish  Armada, 


That  death  on  every  side  to  them  appears, 
In  thousand  forms  to  work  more  ghastly  fears. 
The  stars,  the  mariners'  guides,  seem  to  have  left 
Empty  their  orbs,  and  shot  their  fires  forth 
To  light  the  regions  of  malicious  fiends. 

"'  On  every  side  the  wrathful  sea  besieg'd  ; 
High  toward  the  heavens  the  billows  heaved  the  ships, 
Then  thrust  their  keels  deep  in  the  foaming  surge. 
For  them  no  chart  or  compass  did  avail, 
Nor  haven  did  to  them  an  anchor  yield, 
E'en  till  that  raging  tempest  overbloweth. 

"'  The  mutinous  wind,  with  furious  force, 
Tossing  the  Armada  like  a  plaything 
On  the  waves  did  wreak  avengement  strong. 
Some  of  the  ships  he  hurl'd  upon  the  rocks 
And  helpless  left  a  prey  to  ocean  deep, 
Which  gaping  greedy  wide  did  straight  devour. 
Low  down  where  dawning  day  doth  never  peep, 
Their  dwelling  now  in  waters  wide  and  still, 
For  sad  Night  over  them  her  mantle  black  doth  spread 

u'At  last  the  weary,  woeful  night  wore  out, 
But  Phoebus  as  in  Stygian  pools  refrain'd 
To  taint  his  tresses  in  the  surging  main, 
And  'neath  dark  clouds  he  shrouded  up  his  face. 

"'The mariners,  yet  half-amazed  stare 
At  peril  past,  yet  dare  they  not  secure 
To  feel,  for  hidden  rock  in  wait  doth  lie ; 
And  o'er  the  compass  wide  of  th'  firmament 
The  tempest  clouds,  like  mounted  combatants, 
Ride  through  the  heavens  in  order  battailous. 

"*A  mournful  sight  the  morning  light  reveaPd. 
Some  ships  dismemb'red  quite  of  masts  and  sails, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  529 


Their  oaken  sides,  too,  wreck'cl  and  welter'd  by  the  waves, 

Cannot  for  long  resist  the  power  of  sea, 

Or  burden  of  the  wind-god's  tempest  blast. 

They  wreck'd,  carouse  the  deep,  nor  hope  to  'scape 

The  dreadful  touch  of  cruel,  piercing  rocks — 

Great  Neptune's  crafty  snare  to  swell  his  treasury. 

E'en  those  which  have  the  storm  so  bravely  borne, 

Are  all  in  peril  of  like  painful  plight. 

The  highest  God,  the  Lord  of  life  and  light, 

The  God  of  nature,  powerful  and  just, 

Father  of  gods  and  men,  by  equal  might, 

Alone  can  turn  the  stream  of  destiny, 

And  save  the  rest  from  wrack  of  wrathful  wind, 

And  raging  sea  consuming  utterly/ 

"  *  Ho!  by  the  sky  that  hangs  above  our  heads, 
Whiles  the  Armada  wanders  on  the  sea, 
And  rests  a  prey  to  every  billow's  pride, 
I  like  it  well ; ,  nor  wish  for  Eolus 


To  turn  his  stormy  powers  and  fetter  them 
In  Vulcan's  sturdy  brass.     Let  whirlwinds  dread 
With  swifter  spleen  than  powder  can  enforce, 
Match  the  enraged  sea  them  to  defy, 
Till  shiver'd  all  and  scatter'd  in  the  wind. 
Is  death  the  doom  of  all  that  now  contend 
Against  most  mighty  Neptune?     Are  there  not 
Some  ships  so  strong  they  can  oppose  his  force, 
And  keep  their  course  aright  till  all  on  board 
Are  harbour'd  safe  from  out  his  greedy  grasp?' 

"'To  rid  thee  of  thy  doubt,  to  this  take  heed- 
By  God  the  term  of  life  is  limited, 
Man  neither  may  prolong  nor  shorten  it. 
Let  Neptune  rage  and  hurl  his  marble  mace, 


530  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Heaven  hath  no  fear  of  his  presumptuous  might, 

But  pity  takes  upon  the  toil  of  all, 

Whose  destiny  it  is  to  be  preserv'd 

From  death,  which  such  most  dreadful  stoure  portends/ 

"Then  turning  to  Sir  Palmer,  with  a  look 
Like  dawning  day  which  maketh  all  things  glad, 
Said  she :     '  Now  of  thy  fruit  I  hope  to  taste, 
Right  good  solace  unto  me  'twill  make. 
Say  how  thou  saw'st  these  actors  play  their  parts, 
And  thou  thyself  so  bravely  minded  art, 
Surely  to  few  wert  second  or  to  none.' 

" '  Most  gracious  Queen,'  he  said,  *  to  whom  I  owe 
My  love  and  loyalty,  blessed  Sovereign, 
Whose  will  my  life  doth  sway,  grant  me,  I  pray, 
Thy  leave  to  spare  volumes  of  the  report 
Of  hideous  storms,  and  the  long  tale  of  fight. 
Of  this  thou  hast  e'en  now  satiety, 
Unless  that  thy  desire  be  infinite. 
The  glory  of  our  famous  deeds  let  poets  sing, 
The  more  of  steadfast  minds  to  be  admir'd. 
Heed  thou  I  pray  the  tale  I  have  to  tell, 
That  it  hereafter  may  not  thee  repent. 
No  skill  can  stint,  nor  reason  can  aslake 
The  pangs  of  hunger,  strive  we  ne'er  so  well. 
It  hath  the  weary  soldier  conquered, 
And  wavering  brought  him  back  amain,  whom  wounds 
Could  never  daunt,  nor  tempests  make  to  quail. 

"'"We  followed  the  foe  in  German  seas 
Full  many  a  league,  to  meet  them  day  and  night. 
Our  victuals  fail'd  us  then,  though  we  had  made 
Good  spare  of  them  for  space  of  many  days, 
And  all  that  we  could  do  was  to  turn  back. 


The  Spanish  Armada.  531 

But  then  again  there  rose  strong  and  great  winds, 

So  as  we  could  make  little  or  no  way 

By  space  of  many  hours.     Finding  ourselves 

In  the  great  wilderness  of  waters  now, 

A  prey  to  Eolus  and  all  his  winds, 

And  knowing  not,  whether  in  any  part, 

There  might  be  hope  or  help  for  us  that  day; 

Sith  winds  appear  much  to  resemble  Fame, 

For  though  they  penetrate  and  bluster  everywhere, 

Yet  hide  their  heads  in  clouds  which  ever  do  return. 

Two  days  now  in  that  sea  we  sailed  had, 

When  hideous  roaring  far  away  we  heard, 

That  all  the  sailors  filled  with  affright, 

Of  storm  approaching  that  did  peril  threat, 

Soon  then  brake  forth  the  wind  with  furious  blast 

That  land  and  seas  confounded,  and  the  sky  o'ercast. 

With  dreadful  noise  and  hollow,  rumbling  roar, 

The  sea,  for  fear,  seemed  away  to  fly. 

And  straight  they  saw  the  raging  surges  rear'd 

Up  to  the  skies,  that  them  of  drowning  made  afear'd. 

No  wonder  if  these  did  the  men  appal, 

For  sight  so  dreadful  did  mine  eyes  ne'er  see. 

" '  Said  then  the  soldiers :  "  Pilot  steer  aright 
And  keep  an  even  course;  for  yonder  way 
We  must  eke  pass.     God  do  us  well  acquight, 
This  seemeth  like  the  Gulf  of  Greediness, 
That  deep  engorgeth  all  of  this  world's  prey.' 

"'Forward  we  pass  and  mightily  drive 
The  hollow  vessel  through  the  threatful  wave, 
Which,  gaping  wide  to  swallow  us  alive 
In  th'  huge  abyss  of  his  engulfing  grave, 
Doth  roar  in  vain  and  with  great  terror  rave. 


532  The  Spanish  Armada. 


On  one  side  did  we  see  perilous  rocks — 

A  dangerous  and  detestable  place, 

Where  yelling  mews,  with  sea-gulls  hoarse  and  base, 

And  cormorants  and  birds  of  ravenous  race, 

Sat  waiting  on  that  fearful,  wasteful  clift, 

For  spoil  of  wretches,  whose  unhappy  case 

Hath  driven  them  to  this  despairful  drift. 

But  I,  ou  seeing  them  in  safety  past, 

Thus  said :  "  What  now  is  left  as  death  to  dread  ?" 

At  last,  far  off  we  many  islands  spy, 

Then  said  the  watch :  "  Lo !  I  the  land  descry, 

Therefore  thy  course  do  thereunto  apply. 

"  That  may  not  be,"  the  wary  pilot  said, 
*'  Lest  we  unweeting  hap  to  be  fordone : 
For  those  same  islands  men  report  have  drawn, 
Into  deadly  danger  and  distressed  plight, 
Many  a  wandering  wight,  who  long  time  stray'd, 
Nor  any  certain  port  did  ever  win." 

" '  We  afterward  a  goodly  ship  did  see, 
Laden  from  far  with  precious  merchandise ; 
As  bravely  furnished  as  ship  might  be, 
Which,  through  great  disadventure  or  misprise, 
Herself  had  run  into  great  hazardise; 
Whom  overtaking,  we  to  board  did  purpose, 
But  not  abiding,  being  loose  and  light, 
Our  ship  'gan  turn  about  and  them  forsake. 
The  mariners  and  merchants,  with  much  toil, 
Labour'd  in  vain  to  have  recur'd  their  prize, 
And  the  rich  wares  to  save  from  piteous  spoil. 
But  now  no  toil  might  e'er  her  back  recoil — 
She  sank  with  whirling  sway  into  the  sea; 
Thou  mightst  have  seen  the  frothy  billows  fry 


The  Spanish  Armada.  533 


Under  the  ship,  as  through  them  she  did  go, 
That  seem'd  the  waves  were  into  ivory, 
Or  ivory  into  the  waves  were  sent. 
The  circled  waters  with  hapless  doole, 
Like  to  a  restless  wheel  still  running  round, 

O 

Did  covet  now  within  the  utmost  bound, 

To  draw  our  ship  and  then  to  have  drown'd  all. 

But  naught  of  that  we  fear'd,  but  pass'd  on  hardily. 

"'  The  heedful  guide,  who  had  firmed  his  eye 
,.-Upon  his  card  and  compass — the  masters 
O'  his  long  experiment,  and  unto  which 
He  did  his  steady  helm  apply — now  calPd: — 
"  Behold  I  see  the  haven  nigh  at  hand, 
To  which  I  mean  my  weary  course  to  bend." 
He  needed  not  long  call,  till  I  did  rise 
"With  hasty  joy,  and  o'er  the  ocean  wave 
I  looked  forth,  to  weet  if  true  indeed. 
E'en  then  we  nigh  approach'd  where  was  a  still 
And  calmy  bay,  on  th'  one  side  sheltered 
With  the  broad  shadow  of  an  hoary  hill, 
On  th'  other  side  an  high  rock  tower'd  still, 
That  'twixt  them  both  a  pleasant  port  they  made, 
And  did  like  an  half  theatre  fulfill. 
Now  stay'd  we  not,  but  forward  did  proceed 
The  whiles  ;  the  nimble  boat  so  well  did  speed, 
That  with  her  crooked  keel,  the  land  she  strook, 
And  all  aboard  full  gladsome  did  arrive, 
And  sally  forth  upon  that  kindly  shore. 
The  men  both  sorrowful  and  sad  had  been, 
Till  rescued  from  the  storm  that  rag'd  with  fury  mad. 
But  I  full  soon  now  them  pacify 
As  thus  I  spake:  "Now  well  avise,  for  here 


534  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Is  now  the  end  of  our  adventure  bard ; 
Better  safe  port  than  be  in  seas  distrest." 

" '  With  speed  our  forward  way  we  straightway  take, 
Into  the  land  that  lay  us  fair  before. 
Kor  rested  until  we  a  cottage  spied ; 
Though  not  fit  place  I  thought  it  were  to  stay, 
Yet  we,  from  stormy  stoure  to  shroud  our  persons, 
Were  forced  then  to  seek  some  covert  bower. 
Arrived  there,  the  dame  who  there  abode, 
With  quaking  hands  and  other  signs  of  fear, 
'Gan  shut  the  door,  which  hardly  done,  at  length, 
She  did  us  pray  for  to  remove  away. 
We  knock'd,  and  call'd ;  "  For  pity's  sake,  at  least, 
Vouchsafe  some  little  room  to  us,  who  are 
Unto  your 'house  now  by  adventure  brought, 
Withouten  roof  to  hide  from  heaven's  spite. 
Will  ye  me  now,  with  like  good  turn,  repay 
My  faithful  service  that  by  land  and  sea, 
I  have  adventured  for  England's  sake? 
Good  cause  of  mine  excuse  that  mote  you  please 
Well  to  accept.     I  do  beseech  thee,  dame, 
To  let  us  enter  in  and  shelter  find." 
Whom  pitying  to  hear  so  sore  complain 
She  granted ;  in  we  altogether  far'd. 
"  Thou  art,"  quoth  she,  "  a  stranger  here,  whose  name 
I  wot  not  well;  but  if  you've  bravely  fought 
For  this  my  native  soil  eke  to  defend, 
Now  finding  here  fit  opportunity, 
As  ye  have  done  for  me — the  left  hand  rubs  the  right." 

"'Now  when  of  meats  and  drink  we  had  our  fill, 
Purpose  was  moved  by  that  gentle  dame 
Unto  those  men  adventurous,  to  tell 


The  Spanish  Armada.  535 


Of  deeds  of  arras  that  unto  them  became, 
And  every  one  his  kindred  and  his  name. 
Under  inquiry,  many  instances 
Were  easily  remembered  of  glory  won 
In  highest  'ventures  by  our  countrymen, 
Fam6d  for  fortitude,  and  resolution 
Fair  England  to  defend  with  arms  and  honour. 
But  long  it  were,  and  needless  to  devise 
Their  goodly  entertainment  and  enjoyment. 

"  'At  last  the  weather  did  begin  to  clear 
And  I  did  thus  address  my  men  of  might : — 
"Let  us  depart  while  merry  weather  serves; 
The  ship  storm-beat  shall  yet  to  sea  again. 
Come,  speedily  our  home  return  we'll  make." 

"'Just  as  from  several  ways  we  came  together, 
A  man  made  his  appearance  on  the  sands, 
And  soon  a  party  did  collect  together, 
About  a  boat  just  in  act  to  set  forth 
To  join  a  Spanish  vessel  in  the  bay. 
Awaiting  passage  on  the  strand,  there  stood 
A  lofty  figure  that  one  glance  did  show 
To  be  the  leader  of  the  former  crew. 
Though  force  was  far  from  his  unweapon'd  thoughts, 
His  look  was  such  as  cleaves  the  soul  asunder. 

" '  The  ship  I  saw  'long'd  to  the  Spanish  fleet, 
And  these,  the  sailors,  seemed  to  mine  eyes, 
Like  captives  trembling  at  the  victor's  sight, 
Who'll  ne  be  mov'd  with  reason  nor  with  ruth. 
All  fearless,  then,  of  so  false  enemies, 
I  did  advance  and  boldly  bade  them  stand. 
The  countryman  (the  one  whom  first  we  saw) 
Cried,  "  Sirs,  go  back,  I  say,  you  cannot  pass." 


536  The  Spanish  Armada. 

But  suddenly  dismay'd  and  heartless  quite, 

He  fled  aghast,  and  catching  hasty  hold 

Of  a  young  alder  hard  beside  him  pight, 

It  rent,  and  straight  about  him  'gan  behold 

What  god  or  fortune  would  assist  his  might. 

Him  did  we  overcome  by  subtle  art, 

And  then  unto  the  General  I  said  : — 

"  The  gods  assuage  thy  wratn,  and  turn  the  dregs  of  it 

Upon  this  varlet  here,  who,  like  a  block, 

Hath. thus  denied  my  access  unto  thee." 

" ( But  he,  as  if  in  luckless  war,  fast  ran 
Withouten  stop  or  stay  unto  the  shore, 
And  fiercely  leapt  into  the  idle  flood, 
And  deep  himself  beducked  in  the  same, 
That  in  the  waves  his  lofty  crest  was  steep'd ; 
Ne  of  his  safety  seemed  care  he  kept, 
But,  with  his  raging  arms,  he  rudely  dash'd 
The  water  all  about,  and  did  the  billows  beat. 
When  him  we  sought  t'  entrap,  ere  he  would  yield, 
He  sued  for  peace  and  hostages  did  offer. 
"  Of  my  poor  life  why  make  unpitied  spoil? 
Why  seek  ye  thus  with  torment  and  turmoil, 
To  force  me  live  and  will  not  let  me  die?" 
"  Hold  you  your  life  so  light,"  I  cry,  "  nor  know 
That  to  the  world  nought  else  be  counted  dear? 

"'He  seemed  breathless,  heartless,  faint  and  wan, 
And  every  word  was  like  a  gaping  wound 
Issuing  life  blood.     'Twas  a  doleful  sight, 
But  all  the  men  did  clap  their  hands  and  laugh, 
'Joying  his  foolish  labour  spent  in  vain. 
At  last  when  him  they  overwrestled  had, 
I  bade  the  varlet  straight  to  lead  the  way, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  537 


And  guide  us  to  the  place  from  whence  they  came. 

My  way  with  the  proud  Spaniard  I  addrest, 

And,  as  we  thither  went,  a  matron  sage 

Him  goodly  greeted  in  her  modest  guise, 

And  entertain'd  us  both,  as  best  became 

A  lady  of  such  gentle  grace  and  mien, 

With  all  the  courtesies  she  could  devise. 

She  led  us  to  a  stately  hall  close  by, 

And  thence  into  the  hindmost  room  of  three, 

That  seem'd  a  chamber,  ruinous  and  old, 

Where  sat  a  man  of  ripe  and  perfect  age, 

Who  now  was  grown  right  wise  and  wondrous  sage. 

My  idle  thoughts  abound  with  fantasies, 

Of  magistrates,  of  courts,  of  tribunals, 

Of  laws,  of  judgments,  and  of  decretals. 

But  pleasure  great  the  stranger  had  to  see 

His  goodly  reason  and  grave  personage, 

Who  first  us  greets,  and  after  doth  inquire 

Of  both  our  states  and  both  our  tidings  strange; 

Which,  when  he  knew,  he  said  :  "  I  ne'er  shall  rest, 

Till  I  shall  you  recount  a  rueful  case, 

Embost  with  bale  and  bitter,  biting  grief. 

Speak  not  a  word  till  you  have  heard,  and  tried 

In  scales  of  justice  what  I  now  impart. 

But  about  this  time  the  varlets  'gin  to  come, 

Encumbering  us  round  like  many  swarms  of  bees, 

After  their  hives  with  honey  do  abound  ; 

Therefore,  against  my  liking,  hence  will  we  go, 

Where  that  same  fellow  hath  his  dwelling  low, 

In  hollow  cave  far  underneath  a  cliff — 

There  may  we  talk  and  tellen  all  our  fill." 

"'Ere  long  we  came  uneath  the  hill,  and  there 


538  The  Spanish  Armada. 


We  sat  us  down  beneath  the  craggy  rocks, 

That  doleful,  dreary,  yawned  like  a  grave. 

Then  'gan  the  host  the  whole  discourse  declare : — 

"  When  first  the  darkness  dread  'gan  to  appear 

Of  the  late  storm,  I  took  this  varlet  here 

And  hasten'd  to  the  bay.     To  him  I  said : — 

*  Here  from  this  lofty  cliff  upon  the  shore, 

We'll  gain  a  sight  of  ships,  which  forth  do  pass. 

Death  and  destruction  this  western  gale  doth  threat 

To  all  that  drift  on  ocean's  bosom  wide.' 

" '  While  yet  I  spake,  behold  upon  the  deep 
Some  ships  of  Spain  appear' d  unto  our  view. 
Remorse  and  pity  caus'd  my  zeal  to  melt, 
And  quite  me  to  forsake,  when  from  my  stand 
Which  overlook'd  the  sea,  my  searching  eye 
Discover'd  creeping  slow  along  the  shore, 
A  ship  that  storms  had  tossed  long— 
Close  hugging  the  coast,  a  Spanish  vessel — 
That,  variously  driven  by  the  wind  and  sea, 
Had  hither  come  seeking  a  harbor  safe. 

"'  To  them  who  stood  around  me  on  the  shore, 
I  said:  "  Take  this  boat  here,  and  give  a  hand 
To  help  these  fellows ;  some  of  you  run 
To  yonder  cabin,  for  these  fugitives 
Must  warmth  and  shelter  have,  if  I  be  hang'd  for  it. 
Commend  me  to  the  captain,  and  tell  him 
That  for  their  griefs,  their  fears  of  hostile  strokes, 
And  losses  that  their  vessel  doth  sustain, 
For  all  I  will  to  them  but  kindness  show. 
If  at  my  bidding,  they  come  not  on  shore, 
Then  may  the  turbulent  surge  soon  cover  them." 

"'The  Spaniard  interrupted  hastily 


The  Spanish  Armada.  539 

"  My  good  sir,  hadst  thou  not  been  merciful, 

My  ship  through  keeping  under  sail  full  long, 

AssailM  by  the  sea,  shiver'd  'gainst  rocks, 

Had  rush'd  on  death,  been  shatter'd  'midst  the  storms, 

While  all  on  board  by  cruel  fate  had  drowu'd." 

"  *  Well,  let  that  pass.    Tell  the  Captain  what  thou  art 
And  what  thy  name  is;  why  cam'st  thou  hither.' 

" '  He  said :  "  Don  Martin  is  my  name,  I'm  captain 
Of  the  Flying  Dragon^  a  ship  of  Spain, 
Which  angry  storms  have  put  into  this  bay. 
I  saw  the  danger  great  wherein  I  stood 
In  bringing  thus  my  ship  from  out  the  fleet. 
The  well  forewarning  wind  did  seem  to  say  : — 
'  Set  you  no  footing  on  this  unkind  shore.' 
But,  since  that  life  is  more  than  death  desir'd, 
"When  that  the  tempest's  rigour  pitiless, 
More  dread  and  desperate  than  death  itself, 
Had  by  a  cruel  fate  our  navy  sever'd, 
And  all  dispers'd  amongst  the  wreckful  rocks, 
Which  all  along  the  sea-coast  lay, 
Threat'ning  unheedy  wreck  and  rash  decay, 
Our  faithful  pilot  did  direct  his  course 
Unto  the  harbor  near  that  seemed  safe. 
And,  though  the  sea  did  mock  our  frustrate  search 
With  winds  unapt,  now  crossing  here,  then  there, 
Then  this  way  rapt,  we  enter'd  at  this  port, 
Where  we  most  willing  were  anchor  to  cast, 
And,  desperate  of  our  lives,  to  come  ashore.' 

" '  Pray  tell  me,'  quoth  I, '  how  your  ships  have  borne 
this  storm?' 

"'Said  he:   "When  we  had  mark'd  how  changed 
were  the  skies, 


540  The  Spanish  Armada. 

We  wist  our  hour  had  come.     The  tempest  foul 

Which  'gau  our  ships  assail,  upon  us  burst 

With  such  impetuous  force,  that  all  our  fleet 

Like  scatter'd  sheep  before  its  fury  sped. 

One  ship  to  which  none  other  might  compare, 

When  sudden  storm  did  so  turmoil  the  sky, 

Driv'n  in  danger  by  boist'rous  waves  and  winds, 

Dash'd  on  a  rock  that  under  water  lay 

And  perished  past  all  recovery. 

As  she  sank  in  the  greedy  sea,  we  heard 

The  piteous  cry:  'We  are  wreck'd,  we  split,  we  split ;' 

Casting  mine  eyes  that  way,  I  chanc'd  to  see 

Both  ship  and  mariners  sink  in  the  main. 

A  direful  spectacle !  Naught  can  erase 

It  from  my  memory.     A  ghastly  fear 

Such  as  befits  the  hour,  did  paint 

Their  ashy  faces  with  the  hue  of  death  ; 

While  from  their  lips  a  lamentable  cry 

Did  burst,  that  ever  in  mine  ears  will  sound. 

Through  mirksome  air  we  made  our  doubtful  way, 

For  Night,  in  mantle  black  and  pitchy,  clad — 

A  dreadful  Night  which  boded  direst  ill — 

O'er  Neptune's  surging  waves  had  darkness  spread. 

All  night  through  hidden  perils  wandering, 

Fancy  pictur'd  ghosts  with  sad  amazed  mood, 

Chatt'ring  their  iron  teeth,  and  staring  wide 

With  stony  eyes;  and  all  the  hellish  brood 

Of  Jiends  infernal  J^ock'd  on  every  side, 

To  gaze  on  earthly  wight  thart  with  the  Night  durst  ride. 

Above  the  raging  tempest  we  did  hear 

The  masts  of  one  well  timb'red  hulk  blown  down, 

Making  her  ribs  to  crack  as  they  were  torn  ; 


The  Spanish  Armada.  541 


Some  other  ships,  the  craggy  rocks  did  pierce, 
And  Neptune,  slipping  firm  his  arms  about, 
Had  sunk  them  ere  the  dawning  day  appear'd, 
Down  to  the  lower  regions  of  his  realm. 

"  Would  that  I  might  forever  wipe  away 
The  stern  remembrance  of  that  dreadful  time. 
But  sights  and  sounds,  as  in  a  troubled  dream, 
Are  rudely  shifting  through  my  weary  brain. 

"  Some  of  our  ships,  when  wind  did  so  besiege 
And  tumble  up  the  sea,  alas,  were  driv'n 
Like  wither'd  leaves  before  the  sturdy  blasts, 
And  towards  the  eastern  coast  made  speedy  way. 
Yet  hope  I  still,  that  when  this  storm  is  past, 
And  wind  and  tide  their  course  shall  change,  that  they 
Again  will  bear  the  others  company, 
And  all  the  home-return  in  safety  make. 
O,  that  these  tardy  arms  of  mine  were  wings, 
That  I  might  mount  aloft,  and  so  behold 
How  fares  it  with  our  royal  gallant  ships ! 
Soon  may  the  heavens  our  vessels  give  defence 
Against  contention  great  of  sea  and  sky. 
Our  ships  are  stoutly  timber'd,  and  well  rigg'd; 
Our  sailors  are  expert  upon  the  sea. 
To-morrow,  if  our  navy  still  doth  thrive, 
I  firmly  trust  that  every  noble  ship 
That  tempest  yet  hath  not  too  sorely  wrack'd, 
A  peaceful  progress  will  to  ocean  make." 

" '  The  old  man  answered  in  kindly  tone, 
"  Hope  is  there  yet  of  it  my  captain  brave, 
E'en  treble  sinew'd  let  your  stern  heart  be. 
Such  happy  mood  restores  both  heart  and  brain, 
While  fear,  upon  the  reason  preying,  saps 


542  The  Spanish  Armada. 

The  life  but  lately  ransomed  from  death. 

The  storm  this  morning  furious  appears — 

You're  lucky  men  to  be  secur'd  from  danger's  reach, 

Yet,  still  you  for  your  chosen  company  lament, 

And  straightway  would,  in  spite  of  threat'ning  storm, 

Sail  forth  to  join  your  Majesty's  great  fleet, 

If  you  durst  now  your  crazM  vessel  trust. 

Yet  this  affection  nothing  strange  I  find, 

For  who  with  reason  can  you  eke  reprove  ? 

Our  God  who  limits  life  by  His  almighty  power, 

Hath  mercy  show'd  to  stay  your  purpose  thus. 

Great  dangers  on  your  voyage  would  attend, 

But  danger's  none,  where  Heaven  directs  your  course ; 

So  here,  awhile,  you  should  in  safety  rest, 

Till  season  serve  new  passage  to  assay. 

"We've  vow'd  you  to  protect,  now  then  your  plaint  appease, 

Still  may  we  pity  though  not  pardon  to  you  grant; 

For  imposition  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  appears 

This  siege  against  blest  England's  prosp'rous  peace." 

"  *  The  Spaniard  then  replied  in  alter'd  tone  : — 
"How  strangely  balefulness  has  turn'd  to  bliss, 
For  when  the  morning  light  did  plainly  show 
How  near  were  to  our  ship  the  lofty  cliffs 
Of  thy  fair  land,  it  seem'd  our  perils  grew. 
All  night  upon  this  quiet  sea,  storm-tost, 
Looking  each  hour  into  Death's  mouth  to  fall, 
We  rais'd  our  prayers  to  Heaven  for  aid 
Against  the  terror  of  the  wind  and  waves. 
Since  He,  who  sits  and  rules  above  the  clouds, 
Doth  see  our  needs,  we  did  esteem  it  best 
In  Heaven  to  trust  that  deign'd  in  our  behalf 
To  look  on  us  in  pity,  and  provide 


The  Spanish  Armada.  543 

A  port  till  stormy  winds  and  billows  ceas'd ; 

For  vainly  strive  they,  that  the  Heavens  resist. 

It  seem'd  the  waves  were  incens'd  more  and  more, 

Mounting  with  hideous  roaring  from  the  depths. 

Our  ship  was  batter'd  by  the  encount' ring  storm, 

And  well  nigh  stemm'd  by  th'  breaking  of  the  floods. 

The  steersman  pale  did  careful  hold  his  helm, 

Wherein  the  hope  of  life  and  safety  lay. 

At  length,  when  he  occasion  fittest  found, 

For  harbour  hither  steer'd,  straight  towards  the  cliffs, 

Which  we  this  morning  ruefully  beheld. 

How  loth  we  were  to  execute  Heaven's  will ! 

My  soul — ah  ?  wretched  soul  within  this  breast — 

No  hope  did  have  but  that  our  unknown  Fate 

Extremest  cruelty  assign'd  to  us. 

For  many  hours  before  you  sav'd  our  lives, 

Visions  of  sad  sights  and  sore  catastrophes 

Awaiting  us,  who  came  upon  our  shore 

As  enemies  and  strangers  to  your  land, 

With  torments  fresh  perplex'd  our  souls  to  weigh 

The  hardness  of  our  first  lot  with  our  last. 

Y"et  wondrous  chance  of  mighty  consequence, 

To  thousand  sorts  of  change  we  subject  are ! 

"Apparent  'twas  the  rocks,  the  sea,  the  wind, 
Conspir'd  in  one  to  wreak  their  rash  contempt, 
And  Neptune  aid  to  win  us  as  his  prize. 
If  death  was  our  assured  destiny, 
Far  better  seem'd  a  drier  death  on  shore; 
And  then  we  thought,  perchance  you  would  us  shield, 
Who  helpless  sought  thus  to  protect  our  lives." 

"'The  old  man  then  at  once  took  up  the  tale : 
"As  soon  as  they  had  disembark'd 


544  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Their  coffers,  and  all  necessaries  brought  ashore 
I  went  before  them  dinner  to  provide, 
For  well  I  knew  captain  and  crew  must  be 
Passing  hungry.     I  doubted  not  that  they'd  come  fair 
"With  him,  whom  I  did  leave  there  as  a  guide 
Unto  the  cabin  whither  I  repair'd. 

"'A  little  lowly  hermitage  it  was, 
Down  in  a  vale  hard  by  a  forest's  side, 
Far  from  resort  of  people  who  did  pass 
In  travel  to  and  fro.     Near  this  abode 
A  crystal  stream,  by  Nature's  fountain  fed 
With  sweetest  music  welled  forth  alway. 
Arrived  there,  the  little  house  they  fill, 
Rest  is  their  feast,  and  all  things  at  their  will — 
Food  and  entertainment  are  as  freely  giv'n 
As  if  kinsmen  not  enemies  were  his  guests. 
Then  thus  the  captain  unto  me  did  speak  :— 
*If  thou  deal  truly  as  thou  intimatest, 
I  will  by  letters  privately  procure 
Great  sums  of  money  for  thy  recompense.' 

"'My  noble  captain/  I  reply,  'shame  and  dishonour 
E'en  would  my  house  befall,  and  I  accursed  be, 
If  1,  by  taking  of  your  -wealth,  myself  defile ; 
Therefore  be  rul'd  by  me  and  keep  thy  gold. 
We  mortal  wights,  whose  lives  and  fortunes  are 
To  common  accidents  still  open  laid, 
Are  bound  with  common  bond  of  sympathy 
To  succour  wretched  souls  in  misery. 
Here  is  my  hand  that  I  will  set  you  free, 
Yourselves  shall  see  it  shall  not  be  forgot.' 

"'Most  noble  lord,  the  patron  of  my,hfe, 
Since  nothing  I  may  ever  give,  can  reave 


The  Kjxuiixh  Armada.  545 


Nor  yet  redeem  me  from  my  endless  debt, 
I  would  my  pen  might  yield  immortal  praise 
For  all  thy  goodness  shower'd  on  me  rife.' 

"*  Nay,  Captain,  nay,  write  not  my  praise,  your  lips 
Bestow  enough.     My  heart  doth  oft  me  chide 
That  'tis  my  breeding  gives  me  this  bold  show 
Of  courtesy.     Have  you  not  little  cause 
To  laud  me  thus,  when  I  but  nothing  am  ? 
Praise  for  your  safety  to  the  saints  belongs, 
Who  for  your  sake  have  intercession  made. 
But  for  Heaven's  mercy  your  lab'ring,  sea-wreck'd  ship, 
"Would  now  be  toiling  in  the  foaming  billows, 
Or  sacrificed  be  to  'suage  proud  Neptune's  ire.' 

"'With  sad  discourse  we  pass'd  the  hours  away, 
Till  weary  day  did  wane,  and  pensive  Night 
Her  mantle  black  through  heaven  'gan  overhale. 
Unto  their  lodgings  then  I  bade  my  guests, 
Where,  drowned  in  sweet  sleep,  they  might  forget 
The  tempest,  which  in  stormy  surge  did  toss 
The  ships  which  of  the  Spanish  fleet  remain. 
The  world's  sweet  inn  from  pain  and  wearisome  turmoil 
Doth  welcome  all  who  e'er  an  entrance  make; 
The  peace  of  heaven  is  his,  who  slumbereth 
Shelter'd  within  those  walls  where  rest  is  found. 
So,  to  those  weary  souls  tormented  with  unrest, 
Nature  did  yield  thereto,  and  by  and  by 
Did  woo  them  thither,  and  their  eyes  beguile 
With  kindly  sleep,  to  mitigate  sad  thoughts. 
Secure  they  slept,  nor  woke  till  Morning  fair 
With  rosy  fingers  op'd  the  eyelids  of  the  Day. 

"'The    storm    now   past,   through    vanquishing    of 
clouds, 


546  The  Spanish  Armada. 


The  golden  Sun  his  glist'ring  head  doth  show ; 

And  from  the  woods  ring  forth  sweet  songs  of  birds — 

Melodious  praises  unto  heaven  bestow'd. 

The  water,  running  from  the  silver  spring, 

Glides  over  pebbles  that  at  th'  bottom  lie, 

While  lilies,  like  to  blazing  comets,  burgen    » 

In  ranks  beside  the  merry  bubbling  brook. 

The  fields  and  groves,  with  sweetest  flowers  deck'd, 

All  parti-colour'd,  and  of  every  hue, 

In  melody  of  birds  and  "brook  rejoice, 

And  echo  glad,  bestow  to  all  their  songs. 

The  heavens  laugh,  the  world  shows  joyous  cheer, 

As  Phcebus,  in  his  glist'ring  chariot, 

Mounteth  the  welkin  on  his  daily  journey  bound. 

3Tis  of  mornings  one  of  the  fairest  known. 

The  Spaniards  rise  betimes,  and  when  they  see 

That  Phoebus'  glorious  rays  unclouded  are, 

Their  souls  are  with  new  life  and  hope  inspir'd, 

And  fresh  desire  their  voyage  to  pursue. 

Allur'd  with  mildness  of  the  gentle  weather 

And  pleasaunce  of  the  place,  the  which  was  dight 

All  goodly  in  the  Summer's  richest  dress, 

They  wander'd  up  and  down  the  unbeaten  ways 

Till,  weary,  they  beside  the  stream  found  rest, 

Where  grew  two  lofty  trees  that  fair  did  spread 

Their  arms  abroad,  with  gray  moss  overcast, 

And  their  green  leaves,  trembling  with  slightest  breeze, 

Made  a  calm  shadow  far  in  compass  round. 

As  in  the  shade  they  while  away  the  time, 

Sound  of  the  sea,  breaking  upon  the  shore, 

With  sad  remembrance  doth  them  all  amove. 

They  fear  the  sea  will  swallow  up  their  ships 


The  Spanish  Armada.  547 


Before  the  floods  to  quiet  are  restor'd, 

For  dang'rous  sands  arid  rocks  their  course  beset, 

And  now  no  fav'ring  wind  for  sailing  blows. 

"'With  thought  of  comfort  him  did  I  approach. 
"  Don  Martin  why  do  you  thus  sadly  sit? 
What  in  the  secret  of  your  heart  close  lies, 
From  whence  it  does  as  cloud  from  sea  arise? 
For,  as  a  friend  not  known  but  in  distress, 
I  will,  if  please  you  it  discure,  assay 
To  ease  you  of  that  ill  so  wisely  as  I  may. 
In  th'  brightness  of  th'  heavens,  appears 
!N"o  cloud  to  agitate  your  fears  of  ill ; 
To  saddest  tenor  of  the  woods  you  list; 
To  you  the  water's  sweetest  strain  laments 
O'er  dread  proximity  of  wreck  and  death, 
To  all  who  now  the  foamy  billows  scour. 
Not  vain  the  art  to  banish  dismal  thoughts, 
That  oft  do  noble  minds  annoy.     The  proof 
Consisting  in  return  to  wonted  state 
Of  joy,  that  earth  in  warfare  ominous 
Abides  victorious  o'er  the  powers  of  air. 
'Tis  very  like  to  rowing  'gainst  the  stream, 
But  when  you  follow  e'er  the  contrary  course, 
To  which  your  active  mind  inclined  is, 
All  doleful  dreariment  to  nothing  fades — 
Earth  with  her  smiling  looks  doth  pacify.' 

"  '  You  frame  my  thoughts,  and  fashion  me  within, 
You  stop  my  tongue  and  teach  my  heart  to  speak. 
Small  cause  have  I  to  hang  my  head  and  grieve, 
I  do  thereby  but  murder  mine  own  mind ; 
My  conduct  worthy  is  of  thy  rebuke.' 

" '  In  truth,  what  need  have  you  to  be  dismay'd? 


548  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Your  ship  so  full  of  holes  I  will  repair; 
Your  men  supply  with  all  things  that  they  need  ; 
Soon  you  from  haven  launch'd  may  homeward  sail.' 
I  scarce  know  how  may  it  your  honor  please 
But  all  that  I  have  done  I  have  confess'd. 

"  *  If  thou  canst  I  frankly  bid  thee  speak  assurance.' 
The  Spaniard  anxiously  did  say  to  me. 

"  '  We  must  the  judgment  of  the  Queen  abide,'  quoth  I. 

"'Whilst  we  together  earnestly  discours'd, 
We  then  forth  pacing  to  the  sea-side  went, 
Survey'd  the  ocean  and  the  storm-tost  ship 
Which  held  acquaintance  with  the  waves  so  long. 
"  The  sea  if  it  could  now  so  roar,  would  tell 
Of  divers  goodly  barks  which  on  this  rock 
Of  solitariness  were  cast  and  rent, 
And  by  the  deep  receiv'd.     Of  them  remains 
No  monument  their  memory  to  show," 
Don  Martin  said  in  tones  of  sad  reflection. 
The  sea  arose,  as  it  did  understand, 
And  roar'd  in  fury  on  the  wild  sea-banks, 
And  thereby  raised  hills  of  floods  on  high, 
That  in  their  ebb  and  flow  were  scattr'd  wide. 

"'Don  Martin's  heart  was  dead  within,  yet  outwardly 
He  show'd  some  little  comfort  as  he  said  : — 
"My  thoughts  may  erring  be  to  the  degree 
That  your  great  Queen  will  pardon  me.     I  long  to  live, 
But  death  is  not  the  only  wound  that  lanc'd  this  breast. 
Though  I  may  fear,  I  can  be  bold  to  speak, 
If  but  your  wisdom  will  direct  my  thoughts, 
Or  if  your  prowess  can  me  yield  relief. 
And  you,  my  lord,  the  patron  of  my  life, 
Whose  wondrous  faith  exceeding  earthly  race 


The  Spanish  Armada.  549 


Is  firmest  fixt  in  my  extremest  case, 

May  of  your  Sovereign  well  gain  worthy  grace. 

I  do  entreat  your  company  to-morrow, 

Unto  the  Court  where  I  must  be  presented." 

"  '  He  said,  "  I  will  dispatch  you  severally, 
And  it  must  serve  your  turn.     You  to  Sir  Palmer 
I  consign.     He  will  accept  you  fairly 
And  worthily  shall  you  be  entertain'd, 
Abide  the  fortune  of  thy  present  fate. 
With  you,  Sir  Palmer,  honour  ever  keep, 
And  best  of  happiness  wait  on  you,"  said  he, 
"  Entreat  him  well,  as  we  have  used  thee." 

" '  Thus  with  his  blessing  were  we  both  dismiss'd, 
But,  as  we  went,  the  Spaniard  turn'd  and  said : — 

"0  my  kind  friend,  I  have  one  word '-to  say. 
I  must  entreat  you  honour  me  so  much 
As  to  accept  this  jewel,  and  wear  it 
In  thought  of  one  so  virtuously  bound 
And  unto  you  infinitely  endear'd." 

"Nay,  nay,"  replied  the  old  man  in  great  haste, 
"  Pardon  me,  sir,  I  do  not  want  your  ring. 
I,  in  my  friends,  am  wealthy  and  I  need  no  more, 
n  them  I  do  receive  most  fair  reward, 
Nor  am  with  clamours  e'er  encountered. 
Demand  of  broken  bonds,  and  the  detention 
Of  debts  against  my  honour  long  since  due, 
Never  do  meet  me  in  my  quiet  ways." 

"I  think  myself  unto  you  much  indebted," 
Don  Martin  answer'd,  as  he  bade  farewell. 
I  also  did  assay  to  speak  due  thanks 
Unto  our  gentle  host,  and  forth  from  thence 
We  passed  to  the  strand,  and  did  betake 


550  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Ourselves  unto  the  boat,  with  which  we  cleft 
The  slothful  wave  of  the  great  sleepy  bay.' 

" '  What  of  the  Spanish  vessel,  saw'st  thou  it  not?  ' 

"'  I  neither  saw  it  nor  inquir'd  of  it. 
Like^ Arabs  in  the  darkness  had  they  fled; 
No  signs  of  storm,  no  fear  of  future  pain, 
Which  soon  ensued  them  with  heavy  stoure, 
Nereus  to  the  sea  a  token  gave ; 
Like  bird  with  broken  wing  they  fluttered  away. 
But  this  we  heard  some  of  our  .seamen  say, 
They  wonder'd  how  they  durst,  with  so  much  wealth, 
Trust  such  a  crazed  vessel,  and  so  far 
In  deadly  waters,  dangerous  ways  to  take. 
Much  did  the  Spaniards  lose,  or  haply  did  give  o'er, 
For  there  before  us,  stood  a  coffer  strong, 
Fast  bound  on  every  side  with  iron  bauds, 
But  seeming  to  have  suff'red  mickle  wrong, 
Either  by  being  wreck'd  upon  the  sands, 
Or  being  carried  far  from  foreign  lands. 
In  it  great  treasure  we  did  find  contain'd, 
This  as  our  own  we  took,  and  right  it  thought 
Forthee,  dear  Queen,  to  reap  the  due-reward.' 

"*  What  other  .right,'  quoth  she,  'should  you  esteem, 
But  that  the  sea  it  to  my  share  did  lay?' 

"'  Your  right  is  good,  indeed,  and  so  I  deem 
That  what  the  sea  unto  you  sent,  your 'own  should  seem. 
For  equal  right  in  equal  things  doth  stand 
And  what  the  mighty  sea  had  once  possess'd, 
And  pluckM  quite  from  all  possessor's  hand, 
Whether  by  rage  of  waves  that  never  rest, 
Or  else  by  wreck  that  wretches  had  distress'd, 
He  may  dispose,  by  his  imperial  might, 


The  Spanish  Arm<i<la.  551 

As  thing  at  random  left  to  whom  he  list. 
Enrich'd  with  spoils  returning  home  again, 
Did  happy  wind  and  weather  entertain, 
And  with  good  speed  we  sought  an  entry  here, 
Where  Thamus  pays  her  tribute  to  the  main.' 

"  'Thy  ship  thou  say'st  is  safe  and  richly  fraught?' 

"  'Aye,  gold  there  is,  your  Majesty,  in  goodly  store. 
Wilt  come  thyself  and  see  with  thine  own  eyes?' 

" '  Tush !  tush  !  Go  thou  thy  way,  discharge  thy  ship, 
And  bid  my  factor  bring  this  loading  in. 
And  yet  I  wonder  at  this  argosy — 
Hispania  like  Troy  is  sack'd  upon  the  sea, 
And  Eolus,  like  Agamemnon,  sounds 
The  surges,  his  fierce  soldiers,  to  the  spoil.' 

"  Therewith  she  laugh'd  and  to  Don  Martin  turn'd, 
And  her  fair  eyes  like  stars  that  dimmed  were 
With  darksome  cloud,  now  show'd  their  goodly  beams 
More  bright  than  Hesperus  his  head  doth  rear. 
But  they  so  far  from  peace  or  patience  were, 
That  all  at  once  'gan  fiercely  at  him  dart, 
Like  to  a  storm  which  hovers  under  sky, 
At  length  breaks  down  in  rain,  and  hail,  and  sleet. 
Proudly  she  bade  him  stoop  unto  his  knee, 
And  do  unwilling  worship  at  her  feet. 

"All  bent  the  office  and  devotion  of  their  view, 
Upon  his  tawny  front  and  eye  of  fire. 
Then  all  were  silent  every  one  to  hear, 
And  all  their  senses  climb'd  into  their  ears. 
At  this  the  Spaniard  haughty,  bold,  forth  stept, 
And  slight  obeisance  made  with  flashing  look — 
Fire  in  the  flint  shows  not  till  it  is  strook — 
And  thus  bespake  the  Queen  ;  l  Forgive  it  me 


552  The  Spanish  Armada. 

To  weet  which  of  the  gods  I  shall  thee  name 
That  unto  thee  due  worship  I  may  frame.' 

"  '  Name  me  the  tickle  goddess  that  is  Fortune  hight, 
Since  Fate  perforce  hath  left  you  here  wjth  me, 
To  be  the  record  of  Spain's  rueful  loss, 
And  Fortune  could  so  well  to  death  you  toss.' 

" '  O,  heavy  record  of  my  disad ventures! 
Well  hoped  I,  and  fair  beginnings  had, 
Tbatyou  my  captive  languor  should  redeem, 
Who  rather  death  desire  than  such  despite.' 

" '  He's  a  good  soldier  to  a  lady,  Madarn.' 
Quoth  Burleigh,  and  she  answered  straightway: — 

"'And  a  good  soldier  to  a  lady,  sir, 
But  what,  I  pray,  may  he  be  to  a  lord  ? ' 

"'A  lord  to  a  lord,  dear  Queen,  a  man  to  a  man.' 

"Then  to  the  Spaniard  scornfully  she  said: — 
'0  vain  ensample  of  the  Spanish  pride, 
First  thou  shalt  kneel  to  me,  and  humbly  crave 
A  pardon  for  thy  life.     Kneel,  kneel,  I  say.' 

"'To  be  a  soldier  is  to  be  possess'd 
Of  a  profession  true  and  honourable, 
With  a  persuasion  strong  to  get  a  narne 
Of  valour,  honour  and  applause ;  and  yet, 
Thou  wrong'st  my  honour  as  thou  wouldst  my  name. 
To  all  the  host  of  Heaven  I  do  complain  me, 
And  bid  them  all  bear  witness  to  my  shame. 
This  is  intolerable!     A  heavy  yoke  ! 
When  from  high  Heaven  a  dreadful  storm  was  sent, 
As  willing  me  against  thy  will  to  stay, 
Whom  then  should  I — or  heaven,  or  thee — obey? 
The  heavens  know  best  what  is  the  best  for  me.' 

"'Thy  speech  doth  fly  and  eagle's  flight,  bold  forth, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  553 


Or  like  a  winged  storm  thy  words  hence  slip. 

But,  if  it  please  thee,  I  thy  cause  decide ; 

This  'twould  become  thee  to  remember,  sir, 

I  have  the  power  to  hurt  or  to  defend. 

Not  any  element  shall  shroud  thee  from  my  wrath, 

Nor  any  voice  unsay  my  words  of  peace, 

If  I  inclined  be  thee  to  preserve. 

Thy  life  doth  lie  in  my  least  eyelids'  fall. 

Appease  my  wrath  or  else  I'll  torture  thee, 

Searing  thy  hateful  flesh  with  burning  irons 

And  drops  of  scalding  lead,  while  all  thy  joints 

Be  rackt  and  beat  asunder  with  the  wheel. 

What  fitter  than  to  mete  unto  a  Spaniard, 

What  Spain  herself  doth  ever  measure  out?' 

"  Naught  therewith  daunted  but  the  rather  stirr'd 
To  greater  enmity  he  proudly  said : — 
'A  virtuous  emulation,  truly  madam, 
And  one  that  well  beseems  the  Queen  of  England, 
To  imitate,  though  but  unskillfully, 
Means  for  removing  of  impediments. 
If  thou  attempt  it,  it'will  cost  thee  dear. 
But  0,  vain  boast!    Who  can  control  his  fate? 
I  have  no  skill  the  tempest  of  thy  wrath  t'  appease, 
Nor  force  to  move  thee  from  thy  stubborn  will.' 

"More  huge  in  strength,  than  wise  in  words  he  was; 
His  boiling  blood  stirr'd  up  a  dangerous  courage, 
Planting  oblivion,  beating  reason  back, 
Forgetting  shame's  pure  blush  and  honour's  wrack. 
And  yet,  so  boldly  did  he  bear  him,  that  the  Queen, 
Through  strong  opinion  of  his  matchless  might, 
His  wondrous  prowess  and  heroic  worth, 
Resolved   to  forego  the  punishment 


554  The  Spanish  Armada. 


She  had  devised,  and  him  to  restore 
To  living  light ;  but,  in  her  stubborn  pride, 
She  did  preserve  her  still  to  outward  eye, 
Whilst  all  her  powers  of  passion  warred  were. 

"Beholding  all  that  womanish  weak  fight, 
In  princess  of  great  power  and  greater  pride, 
He  much  did  wonder  and  did  gaze  transfixt. 
Awhile  both  seemed  to  forget  the  stound 
So  perilous  in  which  his  life  was  set — 
As  when  two  warlike  brigantines  at  sea, 
With  murderous  weapons  arm'd  to  cruel  fight, 
Do  meet  together  on  a  wat'ry  lea, 
They  stem  each  other  with  so  fell  despite, 
That,  with  the  shock  of  their  own  heedless  might, 
Each  other  doth  a  grizzly  passage  rend 
Quite  through  the  sides,  and  eke  doth  bear  them  both 
With  pitiless  remorse  to  fell  avenger's  end. 
Or  as  when  a  tiger  and  a  lioness, 
Are  met  at  spoiling  of  some  hungry  prey, 
Both  challenge  it  with  equal  greediness, 
But  first  the  tiger  claws  thereon  doth  lay, 
And  therefore  loth  to  loose  her  right  away, 
Doth  in  defence  thereof  full  stoutly  stand ; 
To  which  the  lion  strongly  doth  gainsay, 
That  she  to  hunt  the  beast  first  took  in  hand, 
And  ought  it  have  wherever  she  it  found. 

"  Lordly  he  look'd,  and  full  of  warlike  fire, 
As  in  the  shadow  of  her  canopy, 
He  proudly  stood;  his  glist'ning  armour  made 
A  little  glooming  light  much  like  a  shade. 
With  eyes  subdued  she  mused  half  aloud, 
In  mood  perplext:     'But  once  put  out  thy  light, 


Tfic  Xpa-nixh  Armada.  555 


Thou  cunniug'st  pattern  of  excelling  nature, 

I  know  not  where  is  that  Promethean  heat 

That  can  thy  light  re-lume.     When  I  have  pluckt  thy  rose, 

I  cannot  give  it  vital  growth  again, 

It  needs  must  wither.     I'll  smell  thee  on  the  tree. 

But  I  indeed  must  be  more  circumspect — 

Begin  betimes.     Occasion's  bald  behind. 

Slip  not  mine  opportunity,  for  fear,  too  late, 

I  seek  for  much  but  cannot  compass  it. 

Alas,  why  gnaw  you  so  your  nether  lip? 

Some  bloody  passion  shakes  your  very  frame, 

These  are  portents :  and  yet  I  hope,  I  hope 

They  do  not  point  on  me.'     And  she  again, 

To  mask  her  wounded  mind,  both  did  and  said 

Full  many  things  so  doubtful  to  be  weigh'd, 

That  well  he  wist  not  what  by  them  to  guess. 

" '  Be  not  rebellious,  naught  may  us  withstand  ; 
Nor  mayest  thou  disdain  that  woman's  hand 
Hath  conquer'd  thee  anew  in  second  fight, 
For  whylome  they  have  conquered  sea  and  land.' 

u<  Strange  thing  meseemeth  that  so  small  a  thing 
Should  able  be  so  great  an  one  to  wring. 
Hereby  I  learned  have  not  to  despise 
Whatever  thing  seems  small  in  common  eyes.' 

"  Her  eyes  did  seem  to  dance  as  in  delight, 
And  at  her  own  felicity  she  srnil'd. 

*  Would  he  then  change  his  lion's  skin  to  pall  of  gold?' 
N"ow  all  her  forces  unto  her  she  gather' d — 
Armies  of  lovely  looks  and  speeches  wise, 
With  which  she  might  e'en  Jove  himself  entice. 
Then  drawing  nearer,  so  that  he  plain  descried 
That  peerless  pattern  of  Dame  Nature's  pride, 


556  The  Spanish  Armada. 


And  heavenly  image  of  perfection  rare, 
He  blessed  himself  as  one  sore  terrified. 

" '  My  sovereign  lady  and  most  gracious  Queen, 
Most  virtuous  virgin,  glory  be  thy  meed 
And  crown  of  heavenly  praise  with  saints  above. 
Ah!  now,'  quoth  he,  '  I  do  perceive  the  reason 
That  Cynthia  obscures  her  silver  shine, 
Till  forging  Nature  be  condemn'd  for  treason, 
For  stealing  moulds  from  heaven  that  were  divine, 
Wherein  she  fram'd  thee,  in  high  Heaven's  despite, 
To  shame  the  sun  by  day  and  her  by  night.' 

"  She  smil'd  again  well  pleas'd,  but  aptly  said, 
'I  will  pronounce  thy  sentence,  Sir,  straightway. 
Thou  shalt  with  me  close  prisoner  rest  a  year, 
For  many  worthy  men  have  been  imprison'd 
All  of  their  lives,  and  it  hath  been  occasion 
Of  honour  and  great  glory  to  themselves. 
Enough,  I  read  thy  fortune  in  thine  eye, 
Thine  honour's  sav'd  though  into  thralldom  thrown.' 

"  '  Fortune  has  somewhat  the  nature  of  a  woman,' 
He  smiling  said,  as  he  these  words  did  hear. 

" '  That  well  may  be.     'Tis  Fortune's  fault,  not  mine. 
Prosperity  may  one  day  smile  again, 
And  until  then  sit  down  resign'd  to  Fate. 
My  Lord  Burleigh,  see  him  delivered  o'er 
Unto  his  keeper;  we,  my  lords  will  go 
To  put  in  practice  that  which  we  have  sworn.' 

"To  these  her  Councillors,  who  astonish'd  stood 
And  busily  addrest  her,  and  her  fair  besought 
With  many  a  gentle  term,  she  answered : — 

'"  Persuade  me  not,  I'll  not  be  importun'd, 
It  is  your  Sovereign's  absolute  command. 


The  Spfinish  Armada.  557 


My  Lord  High  Chancellor,  award  a  writ 
For  peaceable  possession  of  a  cell. 
And  my  Lord  Chamberlain,  I  you  command 
To  cause  the  guardian  to  take  charge  thereof 
This  present  night.     Go,  therefore,  presently 
And  see  that  it  most  faithfully  be  done.' 

" '  Your  Majesty,'  one  did  presume  to  say, 
*  Seest  thou  not  great  Bacon  waiting  here? 
May  it  please  thee  to  give  answer  presently? 
He  was  to  have  first  hearing  of  his  suit.' 

"At  this  his  speech,  though  knowing  well  my  cause, 
She  seem'd  in  doubt  till  he  awhile  had  spoken. 
Then  I  drew  nigh,  and  humbly  did  beseech 
Her  Grace,  to  grant  my  prisoner  liberty, 
And  by  her  power  protect  his  feeble  state 
With  vigilant  foresight,  for  fear  of  harm 
From  Hatred  and  Despite  lying  in  ambushment. 

"  'Answer  me,  bringst  thou  the  ransom  I  requir'd? 
Thou  art  ill  furnisht  if  thou  hast  not  all.' 

"'  If  I  will  pay  into  thy  hands  the  price, 
Wilt  thou  his  liberty  unto  him  yield?' 

" '  Do  thou  but  bring  the  sum  which  thou  to  have 
Pretendest,  and  I'll  see  what  that  procureth.' 

"  *  Why,  then,  we'll  make  exchange.    Here,  take  thou 

this 
And  seal  the  bargain  to  release  my  prisoner.' 

"  She  did  not  answer,  but  aside  to  Burleigh 
I  heard  her  say  in  a  surprised  tone  : — 

"  *  Upon  my  life,  the  villain  has  procur'd 
By  some  device  or  other,  all  requir'd — 
No  doubt  from  loudly  prating  mountebanks, 
Gown'd  vultures,  thieves,  and  the  litigious  rout 


558  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Of  cozeners,  who  hautit  this  occupation.' 
Then  to  me  with  undeserved  heat : — 
*How  chance  thou  cam'st  by  this?     The  surn 
By  far  exceeds  thy  credit,  that  I  know.' 

"  *  I  dare  not  for  my  life  disclose.     'Tis  gold. 
I'll  say  it  is  an  honest  shift,  the  which 
I  have  devis'd  (and  of  great  credit,  too) 
For  raising  of  this  sum — 'tis  strange  but  true. 
'Twas  right  this  to  have  done  and  not  spoke  on't; 
Being  done,  unknown,  thou  shouldst  have  found  it 

afterwards 

"Well  done,  but  wouldst  condemn  it  now,  if  that  my  tongue 
Betray'd  my  act,  for  surely  thou  must  know, 
'Tis  not  my  profit  that  doth  lead  mine  honour.' 

"  In  rage  she  cried :    '  Thy  words  uucourteous  are  ! 
What!  wilt  thou  flout  me  thus  unto  my  face? 
I'll  break  that  merry  sconce  of  thine, 
That  stands  on  tricks  when  I  am  undispos'd. 
I  tread  in  dust  thee  and  thy  monie  both, 
That  were  it  not  for  shame — '     So  turned  from  me  wroth, 
With  eyes  that  sooner  sparkle  fire  than  shed  a  tear. 
As  hitherto  I  had  but  fann'd  the  fire, 
Now  would  I  quite  as  gladly  quench  the  flame. 
Therefore  unto  her  hastily  I  went, 
And  begg'd  that  she  would  not  so  soon  depart. 
"With  sudden  energy  I  did  exclaim : — 

"'All  times  and  seasons  rest  you  at  a  stay, 
That  I  be  not  like  exil'd  air  thrust  from  my  sphere! ' 
Whereat  she  starts  and  looks  at  me  with  yielding  eyes. 

"'What  mean'st  thy  witless  pleasance?    Dost  thou 

choose 
All  to  disclose?     I  do  demand  the  truth. 


The,  Spanish  Armada.  559 


Sir,  dare  or  dare  not.     Answer  or  not  answer, 

For  thou  hast  nothing  told.     Yet  stay!     What  else?' 

"'  0  think  how  little  glory  thou'lt  have  gain'd 
By  slaying  him;  though  thou  his  life  despise, 
Even  for  His  sake,  and  for  His  sacred  word 
Which  in  His  last  bequest  He  to  us  spake, 
We  should  them  love  and  with  their  needs  partake; 
Knowing  that  whatso'er  to  them  we  give, 
We  give  to  Him  by  whom  we  all  do  live. 
I  would  to  Heaven  I  had  thy  potency 
And  thou  wert  Pedro.     Should  it  then  be  thus? 
No,  I  would  tell  what  'twere  to  be  a  judge, 
And  what  a  prisoner.     List  to  my  words! 
We  hold  a  stranger's  honour  in  our  hands, 
And  by  his  death,  which  some  perhaps  will  moan, 
Thou  shalt  condemned  be  by  many  a  one.' 

"  Though  I  her  much  besought,  she  vow'd  revenge 
Which  she  would  soon  perform,  betide  her  weal  or  woe. 
And  then  on  me  she  turn'd  vials  of  wrath. 

"  « Still  so  constant?     Thou,  too,  shalt  feel  the  law. 
Make  thou,  forthwith,  this  present  satisfaction 
Or  I'll  attach  thee  by  this  officer. 
Go,  work  and  dig  for  gold,  (a  task  unfitting 
For  one  so  base  as  thou)  then  thou  shalt  have  enough. 
But  for  much  more  would  not  thy  noble  mother 
Be  so  dishonour'd.     I  thrust  down  thy  throat 
Th'  reproachful  speeches  breath'd  in  my  disdain ! 
I'm  full  resolv'd.     Dost  hear,  foul  spoken  coward, 
That  thund'rest  with  thy  tongue  like  mighty  Jove, 
Or  as  an  hundred  ramping  lions  set  to  roar, 
But  with  thy  weapon  nothing  durst  perform? 
Must  thou  be  forc'd  from  me  ere  thou  wilt  go? 


560  The  Spanish  Armada. 


Go  hang  yourselves,  thou  and  thy  Spaniard  both  ! 
But,  rather,  I'll  look  on  the  prisoner  here, 
For  we  shall  see  him  shorter  by  the  head 
When  next  we  meet,  my  worthy  courtier.' 

"  I  cried :   *  What  foul  disgrace  is  this,  to  blot 
Thy  fame  that  now  unblemish'd  is  with  blame 
So  foul,  0  Queen,  as  breach  of  faith  once  plight! 
Such  jewels  being  lost  are  never  found  again. 
'Tis  lost  but  once,  and  once  lost,  lost  forever! 
The  worth  of  all  men  by  their  end  esteem, 
And  then  due  praise  or  due  reproach  them  yield. 
For  I  may  boldly  say,  he  surely  is 
A  right  good  knight  and  true  of  word  ywis, 
Though  he,  meseems,  were  not  advised  well. 
He  hath  made  many  ventures  in  the  world  abroad, 
In  which  he  hath  great  glory  won,  I  hear. 
He  is  of  higher  nature  than  the  King  of  Spain.' 

"'  What  antique  stories  are  you  telling  us, 
With  Punic  chivalry  equivalent? 
What  though  he  battle  made,  the  dreadest  dangerous 
That  ever  shrilling  trumpet  did  resound, 
Yet  now  his  acts  be  nowhere  to  be  found ; 
And  no  renowned  poet  hath  compil'd, 
With  warlike  numbers  and  heroic  sound, 
These  deeds  thou  dost  so  boast,  misguided  man, 
But  he  himself  his  own  self's  valiance  sings.' 

"  'Apollo's  oracles  are  not  more  true 
Than  thou  shalt  find  his  vaunt  substantial.' 

"'The  equal  die  of  war  he  well  did  know. 
What  need  they  treat  of  peace  that  come  for  war, 
Meaning  to  make  a  conquest  of  our  land, 
And,  with  their  conquering  swords  to  marshal  them, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  561 

To  leave  no  ground  for  us  to  march  upon? 
Tut!  tut!  there  is  some  other  matter  in  it. 
These  prisoners  ta'en  must  be  restor'd  again, 
And  I,  that  triumph'd  so,  be  overcome? 
Fie!  that  were  setting  open  and  wide,  the  gate 
For  base  impostures  to  o'erflood  the  kingdom.' 

"Then  turning  to  her  Councillors  she  said  : — 

"Til  make  a  Star-chamber  matter  of  it. 
My  lords,  you  are  appointed  for  that  office, 
The  due  of  honour  in  no  point  omit. 
Hard  is  the  doubt,  and  difficult  to  deem 
Whether  shall  weigh  the  balance  down,  I  weet, 
One  single  word  which  from  my  lips  doth  fall, 
Or  the  life-blood  in  his  vile  veins  withall. 
His  life,  forsooth,  shall  be  at  your  command.' 

"'But  ere  thou  limit  what  is  less  or  more 
In  everything,  thou  oughtest  first  to  know 
What  was  the  poise  of  every  part  of  yore, 
And  look  how  much  them  it  doth  overflow 
Or  fail  thereof — so  much  is  just  to  trow. 
These   must   be   looked   into,  since  things   are   in  your 

power.' 
I  interpos'd  ere  they  had  time  to  answer. 

"  *  He  that  in  a  bath  is  wet,'  I  did  reflect, 
'  If  he  into  the  river  should  be  flung, 
Or  e'en  into  th'  ocean  itself  can  be 
No  more  wet.     Certes  there's  solace  in't.' 

"  Uprose  she  from  her  place,  and  look'd  about 
That  she  the  man  might  spy,  like  eyas  hawk 
That  mounts  unto  the  skies  to  seize  his  prey. 
At  last,  she  saw  where  he  upstarted  brave. 

"'Perk  as  a  peacock  !'  she  mutter'd  with  a  frown, 


ii 


562  The  Spanish  Armada. 


'How  brag  he  bears  himself;  so  smirk,  so  smooth!' 

"But  he  was  wise  and  wary  of  her  will, 
And  ever  held  his  hand  upon  his  heart, 
While  fixed  were  his  fiery  eyes  upon  the  earth. 

"  'Is  this  then  he,  the  best  persuaded  of  himself, 
So  crammed,  (as  he  thinks)  with  excellence 
That  'tis  his  grounds  of  faith  ?     Let  him  come  forth.' 

"Then  I  again  was  her  interpreter 
When  nigh  he  drew  uiito  her  stately  throne. 

"'Know  you  Don  Martin,  sir,  your  countryman?  ' 

"'Aye,  gracious  Queen,  I  know  the  gentleman 
To  be  of  worth  and  worthy  estimation, 
And  not  without  desert  so  well  reputed.' 

"  'Ah !  by  my  troth  the  case  may  be  amended,' 
She  softly  said,  and  on  him  bent  a  smile. 

" '  O,  foolish  man  !  why  haste  to  thy  decay? 
Thou  mightst  have  had  of  life  or  death  election, 
If  thou  the  oath  had  ta'en  here  to  remain  as  thrall.' 

"'Ah,  cruel  chance!  Ah,  luckless  lot  to  me, 
Poor  wretch,  assign'd !  Were  ever  such  contraries  seen  ? 
"Well  may  appear,  by  proof  of  their  mischance, 
The  changeful  turning  of  men's  slippery  state; 
For  he  that  of  himself  is  most  secure, 
Shall  find  his  state  most  fickle  and  unsure. 
Would  that  I  were  in  desert  field  apart — 
Such  one  as  that  same  mighty  man  of  God, 
(That  blood-red  billows,  like  a  walled  front, 
On  either  side  disparted  with  his  rod, 
Till  that  his  army  through  them  dry-foot  trod,) 
Dwelt  forty  days  upon.     I'd  ask  no  more. 
For  now  I  stand  as  one  upon  a  rock, 
Environ'd  with  a  wilderness  of  sea, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  563 

Who  marks  the  waxing  tide  grow  wave  by  wave.' 
"  *  Is  he  not  eloquent  in  all  his  speech ! 

Instead  of  music  I  will  hear  him  speak. 

Don  Pedro,  what  if  I'll  repair  thy  ship 

(Conditionally  that  thou  wilt  stay  with  me) 

And  give  thee  tackling  made  of  rivel'd  gold, 

"Wound  on  the  barks  of  odoriferous  trees; 

Oars  made  of  massy  ivory,  white  as  foam ; 

And  anchors  hewed  from  the  crystal  rock ; 

While  in  thy  treasury  thou  shalt  lock  more  wealth 

Than  twenty  thousand  Indias  can  afford  ? 

What  say  you,  sir,  will  you  be  rul'd  by  me?' 

"She  sought  his  troubled  sense  thus  to  deceive. 

Much  he  did  marvel  at  her  guileful  speech, 

Whose  hidden  drift  he  could  not  well  perceive. 

It  wrought  both  joy  and  sorrow  in  his  mind, 

But,  as  a  ship  that  through  the  ocean  wide 

Directs  her  course  unto  one  certain  coast, 

Is  met  of  many  a  counter  wind  and  tide, 

With  which  her  winged  speed  is  let  and  cross'd, 

Still  winneth  way  ue  hath  her  compass  lost, 

So  he  unto  his  honour  rested  true. 

"'Not  for  a  thousand  worlds  would  I  remain. 

I'm  set  to  see  the  last  of  desperate  chance, 

And  vaunts  of  words,  delights  of  wealth  and  ease 

Do  move  me  not  at  ail,     I'd  think  it  loss 

To  make  exchange  for  all  thy  pomp  and  power. 

Heaven  ban  the  souls  to  everlasting  pain 

And  extreme  tortures  of  the  fiery  deep, 

That  thus  would  deal  with  me  in  my  distress! 

0,  who  is  he  that  brings  me  happy  choice 

Of  death  ?    Thrice  welcome,  he  that  bringeth  tidings  true, 


564  The  Spanish  Armada. 


That  any  will  my  wretched  life  bereave ! 

Welcome  the  baleful  darkness  underneath  the  ground ! 

For  neither  darkness  foul  nor  filthy  bands, 

Can  bind  the  ransom'd  soul  in  woful  thrall. 

After  long  pains  and  labours  manifold, 

That  Heaven  prepar'd  for  man,  mine  eyes  shall  see. 

The  glory  of  His  face  shall  be  reveal'd, 

And  all  celestial  treasures  e'er  be  mine.' 

"  *  Not  he,  but  I  may  curse  this  fatal  day,' 
Quoth  she  to  me,  as  I  stood  by  her  side, 
'For  though  he's  willful  lost  what  he  attain'd, 
I  am  resolv'd  that  he  shall  rest  my  debtor. 
What  now  remains?     What's  left  to  compass  this? 
Great  shame  it  were  to  lose  pains  long  employ'd, 
And  greater  shame  t'  abide  so  great  misprise 
With  which  he  dares  our  offers  thus  despise. 
Yet  that  his  guilt  the  greater  may  appear, 
And  more  my  gracious  mercy,  by  this  wise, 
I  will  awhile  with  his  first  folly  bear, 
But  he  doth  well  deserve  to  taste  its  fruit.' 

"  '  Thus  conscience  doth  arrest  us,  my  dear  Queen, 
And  would  you  that  I  now  the  reason  tell? 
Upon  a  time  Fortune  and  Virtue  match'd, 
With  Wisdom  and  fair  Folly  as  their  seconds, 
Contended  in  th'  Olympics.     Every  man 
Thought  Fortune  and  Folly  would  have  the  worst 
And  pitied  their  cases ;  but  it  fell  out 
Quite  otherwise,  for  Fortune,  being  blind, 
Cared  not  where  she  strook,  nor  whom — ' 

"'Ah,  Bacon,  cease!  thou  steal'st  my  wits  away, 
And  ever  through  ways  unaccessible, 
Dost  pass  into  the  spacious,  pleasant  fields 


The  Spanish  Armada.  565 

Of  science  and  philosophy  divine. 

What  is  it  thou  wouldst  say?     Speak,  I  will  hear/ 

" '  Great  Sovereign,  listen  not  to  his  exclaims, 
But  give  him  liberty  at  least  to  mourn, 
That  sees  his  soldiers  slain,  himself  disarra'd, 
Who  erst  have  forced  kings  to  stand  amaz'd, 
And  with  their  fearful  tongues  haste  to  confess 
"  These  are  the  men  that  all  the  world  admires." 
His  camp  was  like  to  Julius  Caesar's  host, 
That  never  fought  but  had  the  victory/ 

"'But  when  she  sees  our  bloody  colours  spread, 
Then  Victory  begins  to  take  her  flight, 
Resting  herself  upon  our  milk-white  tents. 
Legions  of  spirits  fleeting  in  the  air, 
Direct  our  bullets  and  our  weapons'  points   • 
And  make  their  marks  to  wound  the  senseless  light/ 

" '  Cannot  we  well  afford  then  to  be  generous? 
No  fairer  conquest  can  there  be,  than  that, 
That  with  good-will  is  gain'd.     Thy  heart  shall  be 
With  gladness  pierc'd,  and  I  am  out  of  doubt 
He  must  be  pleas'd,  perforce.     Then  take  the  gold 
Which  these  his  friends  do  offer  to  our  State, 
Nor  seek  to  make  him  yield,  madam,  to  thee 
Unwilling  service.     He  would  dare  the  gods ! 
Not  Hermes,  their  prolocutor,  could  use 
Persuasions  that  should  bend  him  from  his  course/ 

"  She  neither  would  deny  nor  grant  my  suit, 
But,  at  the  instant,  all  our  eyes  were  drawn 
To  one,  that  with  his  weapon  did  command 
Ingress  and  egress  at  his  voluntary, 
Whoever  sayeth  to  him  '  aye '  or  '  no/ 


566  The  Spanish  Armada. 


"'What  are  they  that  would  speak  with  me?'  quoth 

she. 

"  'Sailors,  madam,  they  say  they've  letters  for  you.' 
" '  Let  them  come  in.     How  now  ?     What  news  ? ' 
" '  God  bless  thee,  gracious  Sovereign.' 
"'Let  Him   bless   thee,  too,  my  brave   and   hardy 

seamen. 

What  means  this  sudden  and  more  strange  return?' 
" '  There's  a  letter  for  you  here,  your  Majesty.' 
"'What  should  this  mean?    Are  all  the  rest  come 

back?' 

" '  I  beg  your  Majesty  to  read,'  quoth  he. 
"Her  eyes  bent  on  the  writing,  gloom'd  as  when 
Heaven's  starry  light  is  hidden  in  a  cloud : 
Yet  did  the  cloud  make  even  that  dimm'd  light 
Seem  much  more  lovely  in  that  darkness  laid, 
And,  'twixt  the  twinkling  of  her  eyelids  bright, 
To  spark  out  little  beams,  like  stars  in  foggy  night. 
Then  quickly  all  was  chang'd  to  lively  joy. 

'"'Tis  no  deluding  dream,  the  end  has  come! 
He  that  erst  march'd  like  Xerxes  with  his  host, 
Is  wandering  on  adversity's  wide  ocean, 
Where  nought's  to  be  expected  but  rude  storms, 
Tempestuous  winds  and  high-wrought  troublous  waves, 
As  great  in  number  as  the  sea-sands  infinite. 
Full  many,  in  the  sea,  sleep  their  lastsleep, 
And  many  more,  driv'iTon  the  coast  to  die, 
Here  breathe  their  last,  and  bid  their  friends  farewell. 
And  if  their  country's  kindness  be  so  much, 
Then  let  their  country  kindly  ring  their  knell. 

"'  Eke  as  the  sovereigns  of  the  former  times 
Gave  goodly  gifts,  the  signs  of  grateful  minds, 


The  Spanish  Armada.  567 


And  did  as  pledges  hands  together  join, 

So  will  I  show  these  wretched  prisoners  peace, 

And,  weetless  all  of  lately  wrought  despite, 

"Will  rescue  now  their  lives  to  die  in  beds. 

But  while  afar  the  cruel  conflict  rag'd 

Whose  dangerous  excess  depended  yet  in  doubt, 

'Twere  well  the  Spanish  mariners  should  feel  the  weight 

Of  hand  of  iron  in  a  velvet  glove. 

My  Lords,  attend  !     This  post-script  you  shall  hear : — 

"  *  So,  by  a  roaring  tempest  on  the  flood, 
A  whole  Armado  of  convicted  sail, 
Is  scatter'd  and  disjoin'd  from  fellowship.' 

EPILOGUE. 

Set  down  this  day  in  characters  of  gold, 
And  mark  it  with  a  stone  as  white  as  milk. 
And  ye,  the  happy  above  happy  men, 
Whose  names  are  written  with  a  golden  quill 
On  leaves  of  silver,  in  Fame's  register, 
Proclaim  the  days  of  England's  happiness, 
The  days  of  peace,  the  days  of  quietness. 
By  mercy  and  by  miracle,  our  Queen, 
Even  in  the  gates  of  death  hath  been  preserv'd, 
To  govern  England  in  the  ways  of  truth. 
With  her,  in  sympathy  and  sweet  accord, 
All  loyal  subjects  join,  and  heart  and  hands 
Lift  up  to  Heaven's  high  throne,  and  sacrifice 
Of  praises  and  of  hearty  prayers  send, 
Thanks  giving  for  the  blessings,  and  the  grace 
On  England's  head  that  are  this  day  pour'd  down, 
To  whom  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  elements 
Auspicious  are,  and  grace  of  heaven  on  every  hand, 


568  The  Spanish  Armada. 

Euwheeleth  round  unto  its  utmost  bound. 

"  This  England  never  did  and  never  shall 
Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror. 
In  ages  now  long  past,  a  kind  of  conquest 
Caesar  made  here,  but  made  not  here  his  brag 
Of  came  and  saw  and  overcame,  though  his  ambition 
Swelled  so  much  that  it  did  almost  stretch 
The  sides  o'  th'  world  ;  and  in  our  day,  Philip, 
The  Catholic  King,  the  pride  and  power  of  Spain, 
Most  happily  doth  know  not  how  to  do  it. 
By  English  force  he  first  her  sought  to  guide, 
When  peace  assur'd  her  towers  had  fortified, 
And  golden-fiuger'd  India  had  bestow'd, 
Such  wealth  on  her,  that  strength  and  empire  flow'd, 
Into  her  lofty  turrets,  and  her  waist 
The  wealthy  girdle  of  the  sea  embrac'd. 
Next,  by  the  sword  of  Spain,  he  would  her  fain  subdue,. 
But  England's  scourge  he  may  not  hope  to  be, 
Eke  though  his  hope  surmounts  his  fortunes,  far 
As  is  the  eastern  from  the  western  bound 
Of  God's  great  universe.     Our  firm  estate, 
His  vaunted  power  can  never  overthrow. 
If  Mars  have  sovereign  power  to  manage  arms, 
If  Bacchus  bear  no  rule  in  Neptune's  sea, 
Nor  Vulcan's  fire  doth  Saturn's  scythe  obey, 
Ne'er  shall  a  Spaniard,  far-fet  o'er  the  sea, 
Preferred  be  unto  our  Sovereign. 

"  0  happy  Isle  amid  the  seas  engirt, 
Where  Neptune  sits  in  triumph  to  direct 
Their  course  to  hell  that  aim  at  thy  disgrace; 
Thou  stand'st  as  Neptune's  park,  ribb'd  and  pal'd  in 
With  oaks  unskaleable,  and  roaring  waters ; 


The  Spanish  Armada.  569 


With  sands  that  will  not  bear  thy  enemies'  boats, 
But  suck  them  up  to  the  top-mast;  whose  floods 
Do  swallow  up  thy  foes,  and  on  the  rocks, 
With  force  and  fury  violent,  their  ships 
In  pieces  split ;  thrice  blest,  thrice  blest  art  thou, 
And  thy  whole  land  a  sea-wall'd  garden  is ! 
The  narrow  Britain  seas  are  on  the  south, 
Waters  as  rude  securely  guard  the  west, 
A  wider  ocean  doth  the  north  begirt, 
While  on  the  east,  the  stormy  German  main 
Beats  back  thine  enemies.     This  little  world, 
This  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 
Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 
Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands; 
This  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England, 
This  nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  Kings 
Fear'd  by  their  breed,  and  famous  for  their  birth, 
Renowned  for  their  deeds  as  far  from  home — 
For  Christian  service,  and  true  chivalry — 
As  is  the  sepulchre  in  stubborn  Jewry, 
Of  the  world's  ransom,  blessed  Marie's  Son, 
Inviolate  and  undisturbed  is, 
Though  earth  be  off  her  hinges,  and  the  Alps 
Shake  the  old  snow  from  off  her  trembling  laps. 
"0  England,  model  to  thy  inward  greatness, 
Like  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart. 
What  mightst  thou  do,  that  honour  would  theedo, 
Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural, 
Nor  breach  of  faith  nor  loyalty  unsound, 
Thy  long  time  grieved  heart  did  ever  wound. 
This  royal  throne  of  kings,  this  sceptred  Isle, 


570  The  Spanish  Armada. 

^Tlris  earth  of  majesty,  this  seat  of  Mars, 
This  happy  breed  of  men,  commons  and  peers, 
Should  state,  arid  form,  and  due  proportion  keep, 
Nor  aught  suppress  'gainst  law  and  equity. 

"  Illustrious  England,  ancient  seat  of  kings, 
Whose  chivalry  hath  royaliz'd  thy  fame, 
That  sounding  bravely  through  terrestrial  vale, 
Proclaiming  conquests,  spoils  and  victories, 
Rings  glorious  echoes  through  the  farthest  world! 
What  warlike  nation,  train'd  in  feats  of  arms — 
What  barbarou.s  people,  stubborn  or  uutam'd, 
What  climate  under  the  meridian  signs, 
Or  frozen  zone  under  his  brumal  stage, 
Erst  hath  not  quak'd  and  trembled  at  the  name 
Of  Britain  and  her  mighty  conquerors  ? 
Since  God  himself  doth  join,  with  her,  His  might, 
Her  neighbor  realms — as  Scotland,  Denmark,  France — 
Aw'd  with  her  deeds,  and  jealous  of  her  arms, 
Have  begg'd  defensive  and  offensive  leagues. 
Thus  Europe,  rich  and  mighty  in  her  kings, 
Hath  fear'd  brave  England,  dreadful  in  her  kings. 
And  now  t'  eternize  Albion's  great  name, 
Equivalent  with  Troyans'  ancient  fame, 
Come  the  three  corners  of  the  world  in  arms, 
And  we  shall  shock  them  ;  naught  shall  make  us  rue, 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true. 

(Sig.)  FRANCIS,  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


Sir  francis  Bacon's  Sifc  at  tEfje  (Court 
of  $rancc. 


"  MY  LORD, 

"  Banished  from  England's  court  by  my  royal  mother's 

angry  art, 

("Who  whh  envious  carping  tongue  upbraided  me,) 
I  start  for  France,  and  as  my  mother  willed, 
In  a  vessel  of  our  country  leaving  home, 
I  crossed  the  seas  and  a  passage -cut 
From  England  into  France.     By  her  breath 
I  am  driven,  like  as  rigour  of  tempestuous  gusts 
Provokes  the  mightiest  hulk  against  the  tide, 
Either  to  suffer  shipwreck,  or  at  Calais  to  arrive. 
In  Gallia  I  arrived  full  safe,  and  presently 
Rode  post  unto  the  matchless  court  of  France. 
The  king's  house  was  in  Paris  set,  and  the  king, 
(As  Ambassadors  and  Ministers  of  England's  Queen,) 
Received  and  entertained  us  honourably, 
We  were  lodged  and  accommodated  in  great  state 
In  the  royal  seat,  as  Ambassadors, 
And  were,  in  an  honourable  manner, 
Invited  by  the  great  King  of  France 
To  visit,  and  feast  with  him  in  royal  princes'  state. 

"Being  arrived  in  Henry's  kingly  hall, 
That  like  Adonis'  garden  bloomed  with  flowers 
(For  flower-de-lices,  the  lilies  of  the  French, 
The  rose  of  England,  with  sweet  violets, 
Pale  daffodills,  and  sweet-honey-suckle 
Covered  the  walls  and  obscured  the  table.) 
Such  proud  luxurious  pomp,  excess,  and  pride 


672  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


Of  royal  arras  and  resplendent  gold 

Dazzled  my  eyes,  I  never  such  choice  crystal  saw, 

Nor  such  pomp  of  rich  and  glittering  gold. 

"As  I  looked,  the  trumpets  'gan  on  high  to  sound, 
And  all  the  gracious  people  in  one  full  consort 
Sent  to  heaven  their  echoed  report, 
As  forth  came  Henry,  King  of  France, 
Crowned  as  a  royal  King,  and  garnished  in  wondrous 

robes ; 

With  him  the  aged,  ancient  mother-Queen, 
Arrayed  in  antique  robes  down  to  the  ground ; 
The  sad  habiliments  did  her  right  well  beseem. 

"A  noble  crew  about  them  waited  round, 

Of  sage  and  sober  peers  all  bravely  gownedj 

Before  them  did  march  in  goodly  band 

Tall  young  men,  all  able  to  bear  arms ; 

But  now  in  hand,  they  Laurel  branches  bore, 

Glad  signs  of  victory  and  peace. 

After  them  all,  dancing  in  a  row, 

Came  comely  Virgins  with  garlands  dight, 

Fresh  flowers  that  in  meadows  green  do  grow, 

The  tulippa,  the   double   piony,  wild   thyme  and  stock 

gillyvors, 

The  light  upon  their  leaves  of  wild  vine 
Bright  sparkles,  as  the  darkest  night  the  moon  o'ershines. 
In  their  hands,  all  upheld  sweet  timbrells. 
With  gaping  wonderment  I  gazed 
Upon  these  Damosells,  that  play  and  sing 
And  in  sweet  and  curious  harmony,  before  the  King, 
Use  their  instruments  and  their  voices. 
The  large  concourse  the  great  King  goodly  greets, 
And  did  counter  march  unto  his  royal  seat, 


At  The  Court  of  France.  573 

Where,  before  him  prostrating  low,  the  youth  of  France 
Him  did  loud  proclaim  their  Lord  and  Patron, 
And  did  throw  at  his  feet  their  laurel  boughs. 
His  golden  cup,  full  of  the  best  wine  of  France, 
Brought  by  a  knave,  he  to  his  lordling's  health 
Did  empty,  while  the  battlements  did  all  their 
Ordnance  fire, 

\^ 

Then  did  he  bid  them  fall  unto  their  frugal  cates.  - 

"  I  was  such  a  novice  in  the  Paris  courts, 
I  wondered  at  the  sight  of  such  rich  banquetings. 
Dainty  dishes  beautify  the  board,  in  goodly  Ivory  and 

Gold; 

And  the  spread  table  hath  venison,  pig  and  lamb, 
With  meats  and  drinks  of  every  kind — 
Jacks  of  wine ;  conserves  and  succets  from  Tiberias  ; 
Cates  from  Judea,  choicer  than  the  lamp 
That  fired  Rome  with  sparks  of  gluttony; 
Wines  richer  than  the  Egyptian  Courtesan 
Quaffed  to  Augustus ;  Candy  did  yield 
The  riches  of  her  kings ;  Persia  down  her  Volga,* 
By  canoes,  sent  her  spicery ;  Afric  dates, 
And  mirabolones  of  Spain  quenched  our  fervent  appetites — 
But  what  needs  me  tell  the  feast  ? 

"  The  comely  services  of  the  courtly  traine 
Pleased  me  much.     The  god  that  to  our  soules 
The  music  tuned  held  out  his  hand  in  highest  majesty, 
To  entertaine  the  flower  of  France. 

"Thus  we  feasted,  full  of  mirth,  but  nothing  riotous, 
And  every  thing  did  abound  with  rarest  beautie 
That  all  latitudes  and  countries  could  afford. 

"Now,  by  King  Henry's  command,  still  silence 

*An  error  of  Bacon's. 


574  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

Was  imposed  on  all ;  and  in  the  French  tongue 

He  did  call  me  to  his  side,  and  did  salute  me 

In  honour  of  the  Queen  of  England. 

And,  smiling,  as  if  he  thought 

I  would  not  understand  the  French,  said : — 

"'  My  good  youth,  welcome  to  Paris,  thou  bearest 
Thy  father's  frank  face ;  thy  father's  moral  parts 
May'st  thou  inherit  too,  and  in  thee  live  thy  father's 

excellence. 

Is  the  lord,  thy  father,  well?     With  all  his  defects 
He  might  well  be  a  copy  to  these  younger  times.' 

"I  answered  him  in  French  : — 

"  *  Thanks  to  the  King  of  France  for  this  honour, 
And  thanks  to  all  thy  noble  company  for  honour  done  us, 
In  this  royal  and  gorgeous  entertainment. 
Glad  am  I  that  I  now  am  here.     My  good  father, 
The  noble  lord,  the  prime  of  Albion's  wealth, 
Lives,  your  Majesty,  where  chalky  cliffs 
Famed  through  the  world,  stretch  along  England's  stately 

shore. 
I  will  engrave  his  precepts  in  my  heart,  and  I  wish  to 

have 

As  much  of  my  father  in  me,  as  to  retain 
His  honour  and  magnanimity. 
May  the  heavens,  in  all  mishaps,  bless  my  father 
With  continual  grace.' 

"  To  which  King  Henry  said : — 

"  *  Thou  art  not  old  enough  in  years  for  a  man, 
Nor  young  enough  for  a  boy  ;  as  a  squash  is  before  it  is  a 

peascod, 

Or  a  codling  which  is  almost  an  apple; 
'Tis  with  thee  in  standing  water,  between  boy  and  man ; 


At  The  Court  of  France.  575 


Thou  art  well  favored,  noble  by  birth, 
Noble  by  beautie's  flames,  and  like  thy  father, 
Thou  speakest  very  shrewishly ; 

One  would  think  thy  mother's  milk  was  scarce  out  of 
thee.' 

"  Whereat  the  goodly  company  gazed  at  me 
As  if  they  saw  some  wondrous  monument, 
Some  cornet,  or  unusual  prodigy. 

" '  I  liked  thee  'fore  I  saw  thee,  now  I   love  and 

admire  thee. 

Thou  art  thy  father's  joy,  thy  mother's  comfort, 
Thy  country's  hope.     We  will  even  for  thy  father's  sake, 
(For  thou  art  like  to  have  a  thin  and  slender  pittance,) 
Add,  by  thy  leave,  twenty  crowns  unto  thy  purse. 
Thou  art  a  gallant  youth,  but  fare-thee-well,  sir  boy, 
Here  comes  the  Prince,  I  pray  thee  stand  aside.' 

"Francis,  the  next  blood  and  heir  of  the  House  of 

Valois, 

Approached  the  King ;  twelve  peers  of  France  arm  in  arm 
Accompany  him,  and  by  the  table  stand, 
And  confer  about  some  matter. 

I  saw  His  Royal  Majesty  did,  with  much  unkindness, 
Hail  the  noble  young  Prince  of  France; 
Greeting,  with  sour  looks  and  reverted  forehead, 
The  Prince,  who  upon  his  knee  made  supplication. 
Anon  I  heard  the  Duke  speak  thus : — 

"*  Your  Highness  bade  me  ask  to-day  for  the  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns.' 

"The  King  gaped  and  gazed  on  him,  and  then 
exclaimed  : — 

" '  My  Lord  Duke,  I  am  content  to  lose  some  of  my 
crowns 


576  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


Now  and  then,  to  thievish  Christian  thieves, 

But  thou  art  a  most  pernicious  usurer, 

Froward  by  nature,  enemy  to  peace,  thou  dost  disgrace 

The  House  of  France.     Get  thee  gone,  and  leave  me  alone. 

Thou  shamest  me  in  this  place.     Thou  hast  dishonoured 

me. 

By  honour  of  my  birth,  thou  smooth  faced  boy, 
Thou  like  a  poor  beggar  dost  dishonour  me. 
God  knows  I  am  unprovided,  and  therefore 
Thou  joinest  with  these  lordly  peers  of  France 
To  put  crowns  into  thy  purse.' 

"'Thy  virtue  shall  then  be  to  say, — 
There  is  no  vice  but  beggary : 
Since  kings  break  faith  upon  commodity, 
Gain,  be  my  lord !  for  I  will  worship  thee.* 

" '  What  dost  thou  mean,  sirrah  ? ' 

"'My  gracious  King,  I  am  a  beggar, 
And  I  will  rail  on  the  rich  and  fortunate. 
Fortune  is  corrupted,  changed,  and  won  from  me 
By  tickling  commodity,  commodity  the  bias  of  the  world. 
But,  your  Majesty,  thou  art  a  bawd  to  Fortune, 
Strumpet  Fortune,  that  with  her  golden  hand, 
Hath  made  thee  rich  with  crowns, 

That,  like  pawns,  lie  in  thy  chest  and  trunks,  locked  up. 
Yet  is  not  France  forsworn  and  perjured  too?' 

"  'Away,  villain,  I  will  chide  thy  trespass. 
Thou  shalt  be  expulsed  from  France  for  so  disgracing  me.' 

" '  Thanks,  good  fortune  fall  to  such  a  king, 
As  covets  to  be  counted  rich  and  wise. 
I'll  stand  aside ;  but  there  still  remains  unpaid 
A  hundred  thousand  crowns,  and  I  tell  thee 
I  will  have  the  money.' 


At  The  Court  of  France.  577 


" '  Come,  brother  Francis,  come,  I  charge  thee  go ; 
Gallants,  withdraw  the  Prince,  else  otherwise 
I  must  lay  these  glozes  by. 
I  charge  thee  stand  aside.' 

" '  Sweet  Prince,  go  no  further.     Content  thyself,  my 
lord.' 

" 4  My  lord,  I  will  not  hear  thee.' 
Brother,  I  will  be  heard.     Mother,  I  pray  thee, 
Is  not  the  King  enriched  by  the  beggar's 
Hundred  thousand  crowns?    His  Majesty,  the  King,  thy 

son, 

Doth  intimate  here  that  he  hath  not  that  sum  in  surety ; 
He  little  purposeth  to  give  me   my  hundred   thousand 

crowns, 

And  thou  knowest  that  it  is  mine; 

My  father  did  devise  it  me.     I  will  not  call  him  brother, 
I  pray  thee,  if  thou  lovest  me,  see  thou 
That  my  brother  deny  it  not : 
I  am  the  youngest  son  of  Henry  Second, 
And  thou  shalt  hear  how  I  will  longer  endure  it. 
The  spirit  of  my  father  grows  strong  in  me, 
And  I  will  no  loager  entreat  this  currish  Jew 
The  payment  of  my  part. 
My  father  charged  thee  in  his  will, 
To  give  me  good  education,  and  thou  hast  trained  me 
Like  a  peasant,  obscuring  and  hiding  from  me 
All  gentlemanlike  qualities.     I  say  I  will  not  go 
Till  1  please;  thou  shalt  hear  me;  I  am  no  villain; 
He  is  thrice  a  villain,  that  says  my  father  begot  villains; 
Thou  hast  railed  on  thyself.     Were  thou  not  my  brother, 
I  would  not  take  this  hand  from  thy  throat 
Till  this  other  had  pulled  out  thy  tongue 


578  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

For  saying  so.' 

"'  What,  boy,  wilt  thou  lay  hands  on  me,  villain  ° ' 

"  *  Come,  come,  elder  brother,  by  this  hand  I  will,  sir. 
Mother,  make  him  make  payment.' 

"'O  God,  defend  me,  how  lam  beset! 
What  kind  of  catechising  call'st  thou  this? 
My  child,  I  charge  thee,  away ! 
My  lord,  let  him  have  what  he  doth  demand.' 

"'Madam,  I  have  not  one  half  the  sum;  but  here 

comes  Navarre. 

Gentle  cousin,  my  brother  has  set  upon  me 
And  taunted  me  about  my  father's  will, 
He  says  I  am  a  Jew, 

And  that  his  lauds  and  revenues  enrich  me : 
The  Duke  hath  been  making  such  pitiful  dole 
Over  his  lost  crowns,  that  all  the  beholders 
Take  his  part  with  weeping.' 

"'Cousin,  I  have  five  hundred  crowns 
And  I  will  give  them  thee.' 

"'  Think  not,  Navarre,  I  ask  for  him; 
'Tis  a  peevish  boy.' 

" «  Yet  he  talks  well.' 

" '  What  care  I  for  words  ? 
I  have  promised  to  make  all  this  matter  even.' 

"  '  Will  you  keep  your  word?' 

" '  Dost  thou  not  believe  it,  boy  ? ' 

"  '  Well,  keep  your  word.' 

"And  then  they  shook  hands  and  swore  brothers. 

"  The  Prince  of  Navarre 

Made  the  old  French  King's  daughter  his  wife. 
The  admired  princess  was  a  maid 


At  The  Court  of  France.  579 

Of  grace  and  complete  majesty. 

But  all-telling  fame  doth  noise  abroad 

That  Navarre  made  a  vow,  that  no  woman 

Should  approach  his  silent  court  as  his  wife, 

Till  his  decrepit,  sick,  and  bed-rid  mother 

Doth  surrender  up  her  life. 

But  his  will  now  hath  in  it  no  part,  for  he  is  a  prisoner. 

Three  or  four  of  his  loving  lords 

Put  themselves  in  voluntary  exile  with  him,  at  the  court, 

Soldiers  were  servants  to  this  martial  knight ; 

His  looks  were  stern  though  in  a  life  of  peace ; 

His  form  straight  and  majestic,  the  figure  of  a  god  ; 

His  charmed  eyes,  hair,  and  beard  were  something  brown  ; 

His  face  the  copy  of  a  noble  gentleman ; 

He  was  wrapt  in  sweet  clothes ;  upon  his  fingers  rings ; 

His  bonnet  and  doublet  rich  with  precious  stones ; 

His  round   hose  girded  at  the   knees  with  stones  and 

jewels 

Richer  than  I,  in  my  fifteen  years, 
Had  dreamed  could  in  the  world  be  found. 
Ever  and  anon  this  great  lord  essayed  to  steal  the  malice 
Of  the  clownish  fool,  the  witless  son  of  a  witty  mother, 
That  did  rule  in  France. 

The  roynish  clown  swears  to  send  his  brother 
Into  banishment,  for  asking  for  the  crowns 
He  hath  taken  away  from  him  by  force.' 

" '  I  pray  you  coz,'  said  Navarre, 
'The  wisdom  of  your  course  hath  cost  me  five  hundred 

crowns 
Since  supper  time.' 

" '  The  more  fool  you ;  I  am  resolved  to  tame 
My  bloody  brother ;  the  boy  hath  a  face  so  full  of  frost, 


580  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

Of  storm  and  cloudiness,  I  will  lay  my  reverence  by, 
And  with  my  knife  if  I  do  not  most  curiously  carve 
This  calf's  head  and  capon,  say  my  knife's  naught. 
God  knows  I  know  my  brother  Fraucis  and  his  villains. 
I  dare  take  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, 
And  will  I  now  hide  my  head  for  these  boys, 
Apes,  braggarts,  milk-sops — 

Yea,  these  scandaling,  out-facing,  fashion-monging  boys, 
That  lie,  and  cry,  and  flout,  deprave  and  slander, 
Go  antiquely,  and  show  outward  hideousness, 
And  speak  half  a  dozen  dangerous  words, 
How  they  might  hurt  their  enemies  if  they  durst? 
I  know  them  and  what  they  weigh,  even  to  the  utmost 
scruple.' 

"The  King  was  weeping  ripe. 

" '  0  poverty  of  wit !  kingly  poor  flout ! 
Will  they  not  (think  you) 

Hang  themselves  to-night,  or  ever  (but  in  vizards) 
Show  their  faces?     This  is  what  well-liking  wits 
Would  call  gross,  gross, — fat,  fat,' 
Said  his  pert  brother. 
'  I  say,  thou  hast  not  paid  me  ;  ^thou  hast  diverted  my 

crowns ; 

Thou  art  half  lunatic,  a  mad-cap  ruffian, 
And  a  swearing  jack, 
That  thinkst  with  oaths 

To  face  the  matter  out.      Give  me  my  crowns 
And  I  will  take  my  leave ;  I  am  as  peremptory  as  thou.' 

"  Where  two  raging  fires  meet  together, 
They  do  consume  the  thing  that  feeds  their  fury; 
Though  little  fire  grows  great  with  little  wind, 
Yet  extreme  gusts  will  blow  out  fire  and  all. 


At  The  Court  of  France.  581 


So  Navarre  did,  by  his  good  receipt, 

Suddenly  cure  this  absurd  and  most  unnatural  brawl. 

"'Dear  Sovereign,  hear  me  speak; 
Let  me  have  audience  for  a  word  or  two. 
Here,  Duke,  I  have  more  cause  than  thou  hast 
To  be  out  of  countenance.     Here  am  I  out  of  hope  and 

heart; 

My  cakejs^doiagh;  for  well  you  know, 
I  attend  like  humble  visaged  suitor  here  his  high  will. 
I  am  forbidden  to  visit  the  court  of  Navarre; 
Three  years,  thou  knowest,  I  with  untired  spirit 
And  formal  courtesy,  have  been  dauncing  here. 
I  came  to  Paris  in  hope  to  court  thy  sister, 
And  like  a  cudgel  or  a  hovel  post,  a  staff  or  prop, 
I  dare  not  budge  an  inch.     A  captive  I  stand, 
Toying  and  playing  here, 
Unworthy,  unhappy,  of  so  doleful  drere.' 

"These  words  burst  forth  quite  without  his  will, 
And  then  the  Duke  said : — 

" '  Sir,  thou  needst  not  meddle ;  let  me  deal  in  this. 
Marjorie,  thy  wife,  is  my  sister; 
But  I  must  needs  tell  thee  this, 
For  laying  on  my  duty  to  the  King, 
Thou  art  sand-blind,  high  gravel-blind.' 

"'  I  pray  thee  tell  me,  boy,  how  am  I  sand-blind.' 

"'Knowest  thou  not?    Nay,  indeed,  if  thou  hadst 

thine  eyes 

Thou  mightest  fail  of  knowing. 
Well,  if  thou  hast  a  stomach  too't,  a  God's  name, 
I  will  tell  thee  news  of  thy  fair  wife. 
She,  even  in  the  lovely  garnish  of  a  boy, 
A  prattling  boy,  a  little  scrubbed  boy 


582  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


No  higher  than  herself,  doth  play  the  runaway ; 

For,  my  lord,  thy  loving  wife 

Is  staid  for  at  a  most  delicious  banquet, 

By  the  bed  of  Guise.' 

" '  0  cowardly  boy  !     Fie,  for  shame ! 
Thou  dishonourest  manhood  and  thy  house; 
Thou  liest,  boy,  and  speakest  audaciously ; 
Thou  hast  belied  by  this,  thy  sister  and  my  wife. 
Thou  art  a  villain.' 

" '  God's  my  lifej  thou  naughty  varlet ! 
I  am  not  old,  nor  have  I  gray  hairs 
And  bruise  of  many  days,  but  I  do  challenge  thee 
To  the  trial  of  a  man.     If  thou  killest  me 
Thou  killest  a  man.     I  speak  not  like  a  dotard, 
Or  a  fool,  being  young,  a  boy  and  under  age, 
But,  man,  never  fleer  or  jest  with  me. 
Single  out,  thou  notorious  villain,  any  noble  gentleman 
Of  worthy  birth  and  qualified, 
And  if  I  do  not  pass  a  pin  through  thee, 
I'll  die,  my  lord,  and  lie  buried  in  a  tomb 
"With  my  ancestors.' 

" '  Tush,  tush  !  fear  boys  with  bugs ; 
Thinkest  thou  a  little  din  can  daunt  mine  ears  ? 
Have  I  not  in  my  time  heard  lions  roar? 
Have  I  not  heard  the  sea,  pufted  up  with  winds, 
Rage  like  an  angry  boar  chafed  with  sweat  ? 
Have  I  not  heard  great  ordnance  in  the  field, 
And  Heaven's  artillery  thunder  in  the  sky? 
Have  I  not,  in  pitched  battle,  heard  loud  'larums 
Neighing  steeds  and  trumpets  clang? 
And  dost  thou  think  I  will  not  sound  the  depth 
Of  this  knavery?     Tush,  tush,  boy; 


At  The  Court  of  France.  683 

If  thou  fail  in  thy  slander,  thou  Judas, 
I  will  put  thee  to  the  sword.' 

" '  I  arrest  thy  words. 

Your  Majesty,  vouchsafe  to  call  before  thee 
The  wife  of  this  well  married  man.' 

"Quoth  the  King:— 

"  'Tis  such  fools  as  you  that  makes-  the  world 
Full  of  ill-favored  children. 
Mother,  I  pray  you,  send  unto  his  wife  to  come.' 

" '  Sirrah  Gerald,  go  and  entreat  the  fair  princess, 
My  daughter,  to  come  before  us/ 

"'0  ho!   entreat  her?    Nay  then,  she  needs   must 
come.' 

"'Hush,  sir.' 

" (  Well,  send  for  your  daughter  and  see/ 

"  <  Fetch  her  gallant  hither.' 

"  *  Indeed,  my  lord,  he  is  absent.' 

"  *  Send  his  brother  to  me,'  said  the  King, 
*  lie  make  him  find  him ; 

Let  not  search  nor  inqusition  fail  to  bring  him. 
How  now,  Captain  Dumaine,  where  is  thy  brother?' 

*' '  I  know  not,  your  Royal  Highness.' 

" '  Fetch  your  brother.' 

"'I  will  to  him,  to  satisfy  your  Highness,  and  bring 

him  hither. 

Though  our  brother  is  absent,  'tis  against  his  liking  : 
I  will  about  it  straight." 

"'Go  do  our  bidding;  hence,  hence  !     Call  the  Prin- 
cess/ 

"As  after  some  oration   fairly  spoke   by  a  beloved 

Prince, 
There  doth  appear  among  the  buzzing,  pleased  multitude 


584  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

Of  Judases,  confusion  of  most  ignoble  frolic  and  sport — 
Talking,  and  if  you  please,  moralizing  on  all  that  is  vir- 
tuous ; 

Helping  to  mar  that  which  God  made  sacred. 
Nor  might  nor  greatness  in  mortality  can  censure  'scape: 
Back-wounding  calumny  the  whitest  virtue  strikes : 
"What  king  so  strong  can  tie  the  gall  up  in  a  slanderous 
tongue?' 

"  *  Never  scandal  slept,  my  lord,' 
Says  one  of  the  Prince's  officers,' 
'This  is  flat  knavery  to  call  the  Prince's  wife  harlot; 
I  dare  lay  down  my  life  and  will  doo't  sir, 
Please  you  t'  accept  it, 
That  the  Princess  is  spotless  i'  th'  eyes  of  Heaven/ 

"'It  is  a  wise  father  that  knows  his  own  child. 
My  honest  friend,  he  doth  send  for  her, 
I  propose  to  wager  twenty  crowns 
Upon  her  new-built  virtue  and  obedience. 
I  am  afraid,  sir,  she  will  not  be  entreated/ 

" '  lie  venture  so  much,  I  hope  better  of  her  obedience ; 
If  it  prove  otherwise,  He  keep  my  stables  where  I  lodge 

my  wife, — 

lie  go  in  couples  with  her ; 
The  daughter  of  France  is  a  most  sweet  lady/ 

"'Not  unlike,  sir,  that  may  be, 
But  something  smack !  something  grow  too! 
Truth  will  come  to  light,  murther  cannot  be  hid  long; 
A  man's  son  may,  but  in  the  end  truth  will  out. 
I  can  tell  you  newes  that  you  dreamt  not  of/ 

" '  How,  my  lord,  you  accuse  her?  He  not  call  you 

traitor, 
But  this  most  cruel  usage  of  your  lady 


At  The  Court  of  France.  585 


(Not  able  to  produce  more  accusation  than  your  own 

thoughts) 

Is  vile.     Monsieur,  I  charge  you  in  the  Prince's  name 
Accuse  my  master  and  his  wife,  the  sweet  Lass  of  France, 
Of  what  you  do  profess  to  know,  out  loud.' 

" '  If  I  thought  it  a  piece  of  honesty 
To  acquaint  the  Prince  himself 
About  the  piece  of  iniquity,  his  clog, 
I  would  not  doo't.' 

" '  I  hold  it  knavery  to  conceal  it, 
And  therein  you  are  constant  to  your  profession. 
See,  see,  what  a  man  you  are  now. 
I  will  tell  the  Prince  all,  yea,  every  word/ 

"'Pray  you,  sir,  haste;  'twill  please  my  mind 
As  well,  I  doubt  not,  as  it  will  your  master's, 
To  hear  you  proclaim  here  in  this  court,  his  wife 
Is  mistress  to  an  affable  and  courteous  gentleman, 
Rather  than  her  husband.' 

"'My  lord  doth  know  all  flesh  is  frail.' 

"'But  what  'cerns  it  you,  sir,  to  tell  the  Prince 
The  Princess  plays  so  disgraced  a  part, 
She  being  none  of  your  flesh  and  blood  ? 

********* 

" '  But  the  King  hath  on  him  such  a  countenance 
As  he  had  lost  some  province, 
A  region  loved  as  he  loves  himself. 
Mark  you,  let  him  know  this  business; 
My  grave  sir,  present  yourself 
And  expose  the  fair  Princess  : 
Our  King  will  leap  out  of  himself  for  joy, 
That  his  sister,  the  Princess,  is  false  to  the  Prince.' 


*A  necessary  omission  of  fourteen  XVI  Century  lines. 


586  Sir  Francis  Bacons  Life 


" '  You  are  a  tall  fellow  of  your  hands, 
And  a  sweet  fellow  too ; 
But,  sir,  whilst  you  do  climate  here 
Give  your  countenance  the  manner  of  your  being, 
And  so  your  flesh  and  blood  is  not  punished,  be  happy.' 

" '  Yea,  say  you  so  ?     No  honest  man,  then, 
Should  choose  from  forth  ihe  royal  blood  of  France 
To  propagate  any  branch  or  image  of  his  state.' 

"'  Sir,  understand  you  this  of  me, 
"Wrong  me  not,  nor  wrong  yourself.; 
I  tell  you,  your  master  is  become  a  hot  lover, 
And  your  mistress  is  not  one  that  will  live  long  alone. 
But  sit  still,  my  lord,  and  mark  the  comedy.' 
(Enter  a  messenger). 

"'"Where  is  she,  sir,'  said  the  King. 

" '  Royal  sir,  she  is  gone,  we  know  not  where ; 
Please  you  sir,  her  chambers  are  all  locked, 
And  there  is  no  answer  that  will  be  given 
To  the  loud  noise  we  make.' 

"'Her  doors  locked ! 
Grant,  Heaven,  that  which  I  fear  prove  false.' 

"'With  eyes  in  flood  with  laughter,  the  Frenchman 

said : — 
'Here  comes  Durnaine,  I  fear  you  I  shall  win  the  wager.' 

"'  Captain,'  quoth  the  King, 
'  Thy  brother's  not  with  thee? 
Come  nearer,  no  further  halting, 
Where  is  he,  sir?     Satisfy  me  home 
What  has  become  of  him.' 

'"My  brother  Guise  is  in  a  monastery 
Two  miles  off,  royally  entertained  by  the  fair  Princess.' 

"  'Away,  I  say  and  bring  them  hither. 


At   The  Court  of  France.  587 

Straight,  fetch  them  hither; 

If  they  deny  to  corne,  swinge  them  soundly  forth  unto  me.' 

""With  this,  the  Princess,  formal  in  apparel, 
Gait,  and  countenance,  sudden  into  the  presence  comes. 
She  is  the  fairest  lady  I  have  yet  beheld  in  France, 
And  is  walled  about  with  diamonds,  pearls,  and  gold.' 

.  "'  Good  morrow  to  this  fair  assembly. 
Good  morrow,  Prince;  good  morrow,  brother; 
1  attend  your  Majesty's  command,  to  whom 
I  am  in  ward  and  evermore  in  subjection ; 
What  is  your  will,  sir,  that  you  send  for  me  ? ' 
"The  King  spoke  admiringly: — 
"'Good  morrow,  fairest  sister,  your  sweet  hand. 
Welcome!     Now  tell  us  what  occasion  of  import 
Hath  all  so  long  detained  you  from  this  our  court 
And  sent  you  hither  at  so  late  an  hour.' 

"  Quoth  she, '  I  came  yonder  from  a  great  supper, 
And  I  can  give  you  intelligence 
Of  an  intended  marriage,  will  it  serve  any  model 
To  build  mischief  on.' 

"'I'll  mark  no  news  at  court, 
That  smothers  up  the  report  I  hear  of  you.' 

"At  this  she  stormed  and  wrung  out  sore  sighs, 
That  what  of  grief  her  tongue  could  speak  no  more. 

" '  I  beseech  your  Highness,  in  such  a  business, 
Give  me  leave  to  answer  that  which  I  durst  speak.' 

" '  Your  answer  must  be  short.' 

«  '  By  grace  itself,  I  swear 
I  will  tell  the  truth  before  the  King, 
And  next  unto  high  Heaven.' 

" '  Say  your  mind.' 

"'Good,  my  liege,  Royal  Sir, 


588  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

I  (0  my  brother,)  proclaim  the  wrongs 

I  have  from  this  good  gentleman 

Visiting  your  Highness,  and  whom  I  have  wedded, 

And  which  hath  something  touched  my  very  heart; 

I  have  seen  him,  with  mine  eyes, 

Make  love  to  my  friend  ; 

And  the  conversation  of  Paris  is, 

He,  with  kisses,  comforts  the  fair  face 

Of  a  puttocke,  wife  to  another/ 

"'What!     art  thou  mad  ? ' 

"  'Almost,  sir.     Heaven  restore  me. 
I  would  I  were  a  neat-herd's  daughter; 
0,  brave  sir,  I  would  be  contented 
To  be  what  green  and  idle  girls  call  "  castaway," 
If  I  could  happily  cure  the  desperate  languishing 
Whereby  my  lord  and  husband  doth  forget  himself; 
I  would  remain  in  a  sheep-cote  a  ram-tender, 
And  consider  little  the  dangers  of  weather; 
Or  else  should  take  on  me 
The  nuptials  of  some  soft  swain, 
Or  old  sheep-whistling  rogue, 
Rather  than  the  Prince,  a  gentleman  born, 
Who,  e'er  he  did  plight  troth  with  me, 
Blessed  his  father's  servant-maid  with  child.' 

"'What  stuff  is  this?     How  say  you? 

" '  'Tis  true,  she  is  heir  of  Navarre. 
I  have  heard  the  poor  babe, 
After  this  devil  by  long  and  vehement  suit 
Seduced  the  mother,  was  cast  aside 
To  wolves  and  bears ; 
The  kites  and  ravens  to  be  nurses  to  it, 
And  both  cast  off.     O !  I  know  him  well, 


At  The  Court  of  France.  589 

Sir,  he  is  a  good  workman.' 

U'O   daughter,  daughter!    Heavens,  dear  lady 

daughter ! 

Peace,  you  should  not  speak  so 
Of  your  lord  and  husband; 
Forgive  a  foolish  woman,  Prince; 
Besides  the  Pnnce  ia  penitent.' 

"'Penitent,  mother;  it  requires  nothing  but  secrecy; 
I'll  not  believe  this  coward  e'er  can  love ; 
Good  my  mother,  peace: 
I  would  that  I  were  low  laid  in  my  grave.' 

"'Believe  me,'  cried  her  husband. 

"  *  I  do  not  believe  you,  man, 
False  blood  to  false  blood  joined — ' 

" '  Stop,  I  charge  you  in  the  Prince's  name 
Not  to  utter  it;  you  are  mad,  mad,  mad.' 

" '  I  am  not  mad ;  this  hair  I  tear  is  mine ; 
My  name  is  Margaret ;  I  am  not  mad ; 
I  would  to  Heaven  I  were,  for  then  'tis  like 
I  would  forget  myself;  I  am  not  mad. 
Too  well,  too  well,  I  feel  the  plagues  of  each  calamity. 

0  your  Royal  Majesty! 

This  most  gallant,  illustrious,  and  learned  gentleman, 

1  say,  look  you,  is  a  thing  too  bad  for  bad  report; 
And  he  hath  married  me,  alack,  alack! 

"What  heinous  sin  it  is  in  me 

To  be  ashamed  to  be  the  wife  of  this  cruel  Prince; 

Husband,  devil,  husband;  I  am  tied  to  you, 

In  brief,  sir,  as  there  comes  light  from  heaven 

And  words  fro*  breath, 

As  there  is  sense  in  truth  and  truth  in  virtue, 

I  am  no     *     *     *     *     in  double  violation 


590  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


Of  chastity  and  of  promise,  as  this  man  is.' 

" '  Noble  Prince,  look  you,'  cried  the  King, 
4  She  charges  your  Royal  Grace 

Of  wanton  joys,  with  many  fair  and  lascivious  ladies. 
On  your  life,  are  you  guilty  ? 
He  answers  not  to  this? 
Then  'tis  time  to  stir  him  fro'  his  trance. 
Awake,  I  pray  sir,  and  answer  well  our  question, 
Or  else  we  will  have  you  closely  mue'd  up.' 

"'Beseech  your  patience,  Sovereign. 
I'll  answer  you,  I  am  your  husband, 
You  are  my  wife.     Well,  come  madam,  wife, 
Sit  by  my  side,  and  let  the  world  see 
"What  fools  they  are  to  say  I  love  you  not. 
Mark  how  they  whisper,  every  jack-slave 
Knows  what  I  will  do,  yea  and  throw  stones, 
Cast  mire  and  spit  upon  me ; 
Aye,  and  set  the  dogs  o'  the  streets  to  bay  at  me. 
I  am  called  all  the  abhorred  things  o'  the  earth, 
Because  of  my  shameless,  amorous  and  villainous  wife, 
Which  I'll  make  bold  your  Highness  cannot  deny.' 

"  *  Remember,  sir,  you  had  been  ta'en  by  craft 
On  your  nuptial  night,  if  my  chaste  daughter 
By  your  side  had  not  prevented  it. 
In  despite  of  Heaven  and  men, 
She  fought  for  you.     "What  if  she  had  been  vicious 
And  had  done  nothing?     You  know,  man, 
You  know  your  life  even  then  was  lost.' 

"  *  True  madam,  but  my  wife  is  slippery, 
Thou  wilt  confess,  or  else  be  impudently  negative — 
To  have  not  eyes,  nor  ears,  nor  thought — 
Then  say  my  wife's  a  holy-horse. 


At  The  Court  of  France.  591 


She  deserves  a  name  as  rank  as  any  flax-wench 

That  puts  to  before  her  troth  plight.' 
" '  I  say  you  lie,  you  lie,  you  lie ! 

You  are  a  gross  lowt,  a  mindless  slave, 

A  hovering  temporizer !     I  have  done  nothing.' 

"'Is  whispering  nothing?  Is  leaning  cheek  to  cheek 
nothing? 

Is  meeting  noses,  kissing  with  the  inside  lip, 

Stopping  the  cariere  of  laughter  with  a  sigh — 

A  note  infallible  of  breaking  honesty — 

Horsing  foot  on  foot,  sulking  in  corners, 

Wishing  clocks  more  swift — hours,  minutes ;  noon,  mid- 
night— 

And  all  eyes  blind  with  the  pin  and  web, 

But  theirs,  theirs  only,  that  would  unseene  be  wicked. 

Is  this  nothing?     Why  then  the  world  and  all  that's  in't 
is  nothing! 

The  covering  sky  is  nothing,  France  nothing, 

My  wife  is  nothing,  nor  nothing  have  these  nothings, 

If  this  be  nothing! 

Do  I  jest  now,  think  you?    O,  I  will  pluck  out  her  eyes! 

0,  I  stand  upon  thorns!' 

"'My  daughter  loveth  thee  or  she  doth  dissemble 
deeply. 

I  pray  thee  have  care,  be  at  accord. 

Make  not  a  bond  maid  and  a  slave  of  her. 

This  man  hath  bewitched  the  bosom  of  my  child, 

Given  her  rimes,  and  by  a  form  in  wax, 

Composed  by  the  king  of  shadows,  hath  in  the  liverie 

Of  herself,  imprinted   within   her  heart    his   lordship's 
figure. 

The  instant  he  did  pierce  the  image  to  its  heart, 


592  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

My  child  lost  her  love  of  thee. 

I  can  produce  a  shape  that,  upon  knowledge, 

If  one  sticks  it  at  the  heart,  sir,  will  fetch  off  life ; 

And  were  I  appointed  to  murder  thee, 

I  would  kill  thee,'  said  the  Queen-mother, 

'  Were  region's  space  'twixt  us.' 

"  '  I  thank  thee,  madam,'  answered  the  Princess, 

*  Hath  he  drawn  my  picture,  or  doth  he  wound  my  heart 

With  a  leaden  sword  ? 

Tut,  how  knowest  thou  all  this? 

My  state  is  not  so  bad,  content  thyself.' 

"  *  Silence,  mistress,  thou  wrongest  me.' 
" '  Good  mother,  do  not  make  me  desperate.' 
"  Then,  as  she  stood,  she  sighed  and  counterfeited  to 
sound, 

And  with  shrieks,  as  though  her  heart 

Had  been  wounded  with  the  claws  of  a  lion, 

She  measures  her  princely  body  upon  the  ground. 

To  my  eyes  she  looks  not  pale, 

And  I  would  I  were  to  bring  her  to. 

O,  that  I  might  with  a  needle  prick  her  back ! 

She  no  more  resembles  one  in  a  faint  than  I. 

"'  Thou  hast  killed  my  child  by  thy  villainy,'  said 
the  Queen, 

'Thy  slander  hath  gone  through  and  through  her  heart! 

My  innocent  child,  she  is  dead  ! 

Slandered  to  death  by  villains  ! 

Thy  speech,  like  iron,  run  through  her  blood. 

My  child's  dead ; 

I  thank  thee,  Prince,  for  my  daughter's  death : 

Record  it  with  thy  high  and  worthy  deeds, 

Thou  hast  wronged  my  innocent  child. 


At   The  Court  of  France.  59JJ 

Gentlewomen,  pluck  up  the  Princess  and  withdraw 
Into  the  chamber;  take  her  and  bear  her  back.' 

"The  Princess'  gentlewoman  lifted  the  Princess 
From  the  earth,  and  so  locked  her  in  embracing 
As  if  she  would  pin  her  to  her  heart. 
Still  pretending,  the  Queen  importuned  thus: — 

" '  My  daughter  renew  thy  strength. 
0  God!  speak,  my  daughter!  sweet  girl,  wilt  thou  heap 

me  no  more  ? 

My  old  limbs  be  lame,  and  unregarded ; 
Age  is  in  corners  thrown,  my  spirits  quail, 
My  heart  drops  blood.     Good  den,  good  den. 

0  King,  Margaret  thy  sister  is  dead.' 

" '  I'll  go  along  with  thee,'  said  the  King. 

" '  Leave  me  alone  to  woo  my  daughter  back  to  life ; 
Give  me  leave  to  go.' 

"  Then  the  Queen  left  the  feast.     I  among  the  rest 
Stay  with  his  Grace,  and  enter  into  the  secrets 
Of  this  viperous  slander. 

'"Faith  my  lord/  said  the  Frenchman,  'the  wager 
thou  hast  won.' 

" '  I  do  assure  you,  my  very  good  friend, 
For  what  is  inward  between  us,  let  it  pass. 
Believe  me,  of  all  the  men  alive, 

1  never  yet  beheld  a  face  which  could  mark 
More  of  grief  than  the  King's. 

A  Jew  would  have  wept  to  have  seen  his  bitter  anguish. 

But  marked  you  how  his  sister,  being  so  far  provoked, 

Began  to  scold  and  raise  up  such  a  storm 

That  mortal  ears  might  hardly  endure  the  din? 

She  did  chide  loud  as  thunder  when  the  clouds  m  autumn 

crack. 
13 


594  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

Here  is  a  wonder,  if  you  talk  of  a  wonder.' 
"'And  so  it  is.     I  wonder  what  it  bodes?' 
"'  Marry,  peace  it  bodes,  and  love,  and  quiet  life, 

Awful  rule,  and  right  supremacy. 

The  greatest  wrong  of  all  is,  that  the  Prince, 

My  master,  left  a  wife  whose  beauty  doth  astonish 

The  survey  of  richest  eyes. 

He  cannot  thrive,  unless  her  prayers 

Whom  Heaven  delights  to  hear  and  loves  to  grant, 

Reprieve  him  from  the  wrath  of  God. 

To  this  unworthy  husband  of  his  wife 

Let  every  word  weigh  heavy  of  her  wrath, 

That  he  doth  weigh  too  light.' 

"'He  hath  much  worthy  blame  laid  on  him.' 

" '  Haply  his  heart  was  not  consenting  to  this  slander  : 

I  have  stood  by  my  master,  and  I  confess, 

Strongly  as  words  can  make,  I  know  and  love  him  well ; 

But  I  would  not  be  a  stander  by 

To  hear  my  sovereign  mistress  clouded  so, 

For  twenty  thousand  crowns.' 

"'The  devil  the  Duke,  partly  by  his  oaths, 

Did  deceive  them.' 

"  *  You  never  spoke  what  did  become  you 

More  than  this.' 

"'There  is  nothing  here  in  France 

That  is  too  good  for  him,  but  only  she. 

And  she  deserves  a  lord  that  twenty  such  rude  boys 

Might  tend  upon,  and  hourly  call  her  mistress.' 
" '  My  master  is  a  most  gallant  fellow. 

I  would  that  he  loved  his  wife.' 

"'If  he  were  honester,  he  were  goodlier.' 

" '  Is't  not  a  handsome  gentleman  ?  a  gentleman  born  ?' 


At  The  Court  of  France.  595 


"  'He  is;  yet  slandering,  my  lord, 
Deserves  the  wrath  of  high  Jehovah. 
But  let's  see  the  end  of  this  adoe : 
Hark!  the  King  and  the  Prince  are  going  to  talk.' 

" '  Your  Majesty,  it  is  quite  beyond  the  blank  and  level 
Of  my  brain,  to  say  I  am  sinless  : 
The  sacred  Heavens,  taking  angry  note,  have  left  me 

issueless; 

But  I  am,  in  my  condition,  a  Prince,  a  King, 
And  I  would  no  more  endure  this  wooden  slavery ; 
Let  me  live  here  ever  so  long,  it  makes  not 
This  place  paradise  to  me;  then  let  us  both, 
My  wife  and  I,  my  Sovereign  by  consent  say  farewell, 
And  let  us  go  to  our  Kingdom  of  Navarre.' 

"'Nay,  not  so  quickly,  said  the  King,  'my  sister 
Must  not  yet  depart,  she  must  stay  with  me 
And  attend  to  our  stern  will,  and  with  thee, 
Pupil-like,  take  the  correction — mildly  kiss  the  rod.' 

"'I  do  beseech  your  Majesty  to  have  some  pity, 
The  word  is  short,  but  not  so  short  as  sweet. 
My  friends  do  mourn  in  ashes,  some  coal  black, 
For  the  deposing  of  their  rightful  king. 
Thou  knowest  the  way,  and  as  fond  fathers 
Having  bound  up  the  threatening  twigs  of  birch, 
Only  to  stick  it  in  their  children's  sight, 
For  terror,  not  for  use ;  in  time  the  rod's  more  mocked 

than  feared: 

So  our  decrees,  dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead, 
And  Liberty  plucks  Justice  by  the  nose; 
The  baby  beats  the  nurse,  and  quite  athwart 
Goes  all  decorum  and  even  so  the  general  subject 
To  a  well  wished  king  quit  their  parts, 


506  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 

And  in  obsequious  fondness  crowd  to  his  presence, 
Where  their  untaught  love  must  needs  appear  offence.' 

"'I  will  be  kind  and  liberal.' 

"'I  thank  thee,  King,  for  thy  great  bounty, 
That  not  only  giv'st  me  cause  to  wayle, 
But  teachest  me  the  way  how  to  lament  the  cause; 
So  temporal  fathers  do  appease  children. 
Sir,  your  Highness  knows  I  have  received  punishment 
For  that  which  I  have  not  done ; 
Beaten  for  loyalty;  excited  to  treason, 
Men  with  their  swords  in  hand,  blades  yet  streaming 
With  blood,  against  my  heart  have  charged  me 
In  mine  own  chamber. 
I  owe  you  all  duty,  but  now 
The  constraint  of  hospitable  zeal 
Yields  me  chaff.' 

"'Stop  sir!     0  sir,  your  presence  is  too  bold 
And  peremptory,  and  majesty 
Might  never  yet  endure  the  moody  frontier 
Of  a  servant's  brow :  you  have  good  leave 
To  leave  us,  but  as  we,  under  the  Pope 
And  Heaven,  are  supreme  head 
Of  all  the  kings  of  Christendom,  by  that  great 
Supremacy  whereby  we  reign,  we  will  alone 
Uphold  without  assistance  of  a  mortal  hand, 
The  Church,  our  Holy  Mother,  which  you 
So  willfully  do  spurn  and  force,  perforce, 
And,  in  his  name,  religiously  demand 
Why  you  against  the  Pope  all  reverence  set  apart; 
And  ere  the  sun  set,  we  will  set  armed  discord 
'Tvvixt  these  perjured  provinces  and  France. 
To  the  relief  of  this  rebelling  region, 


At  The  Court  of  France.  597 

If  you  go,  I  will  come  roundly  to  you 
And  your  shrewd  ill-favored  wife  ; 
And  if  you  will  not  tarry,  Prince,  I  will, 
King  as  you  are,  hang  you  like  a  thief, 
If  there  be  gallows  standing  in  France.' 

" '  I  am  too  blunt  and  saucy ;  here  is  my  knee, 
Ere  I  arise  I  will  prove  a  false  king, 
And  tell  you  I'll  tarry. 

And  yet,  my  sovereign  liege,  our  House  little  deserves 
The  scourge  of  greatness  to  be  used  on  it; 
And  that  same  greatness,  too,  which 
Our  own  hands  have  helped  to  make  so  portly/ 

" '  God  save  the  mark  !     I  prithee,  Prince, 
When  did  so  slight,  unworthy,  and  ridiculous 
A  realm  as  thine,  grace  the  triumph  of  great  France?' 

" '  God  save  your  Majesty  !  when  England  brought 
A  counter-check  before  your  gates. 
To  save  unscratched  your  city's  threat'ned  cheeks, 
We  ramm'd  up  our  gates  against  the  crown  of  England, 
And  made  much  work  for  tears 
In  many  an  English  mother. 
The  sun  did  play  upon  the  dancing  banners 
Of  the  staff  of  France,  who  at  hand, 

Triumphantly  displayed  to  England's  king  their  colours; 
The  lords  and  barons  of  my  realm 
•Gave  your  grandfather  Louis  their  heirs  and  pages, 
Who  followed  him,  even  at  the  heels, 
In  golden  multitudes;  swore  him  assistance 
In  terms  of  zeal,  and  performed  it,  too.' 

"'Tut,  I  care  not  to  hear  this!' 

"'No?  by  my  soul,  'tis  so. 
It  pleases  your  Majesty  to  turn  your  looks  of  favour 


598  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


From  myself  and  all  our  House; 

And  yet,  I  must  remember  you,  my  lord, 

We  were  the  first  and  dearest  of  your  friends ; 

My  grandfather's  Majesty,  I  have  heard, 

And  his  subjects  gave  you  all  the  duties  of  men: 

The  lives  that  he  did  lead  to  ope  the  purple 

Testament  of  bleeding  war,  and  throw  brave  defiance 

[n  King  Henry's  teeth,  the  great  King  of  England, 

Are  gone  and  fled;  and  out  of  dear  love 

From  France  unto  England,  never  such  a  power 

For  any  foreign  preparation  was  levied 

In  the  body  of  the  laud,  which  did  rush 

To  faithful  service  of  your  Majesty's  grandfather. 

By  this  time,  from  their  fixed  beds  of  lime, 

Your  town's  walls  had  been  dishabited, 

Arid  wide  havoc  made  for  bloody  power  to  rush  in  ; 

And  England's  barbed  steeds  would  have  made  stables 

Of  each  religious  house  in  France,  noble  cousin, 

If  my  fathers  had  not  here  advanced  the  flags  of  France,. 

And  hither  marched  to  your  father's  enfranchisement. 

Thrice  Harry  of  England, 

Bullinbrook's  son,  did  wade  to  the  market  place 

In  Frenchmen's  blood  ;  his  horses'  hoofs  did 

Fret  fet-lock  deep  in  gore,  and  in  wilde  rage 

Yerked  out  their  arm&d  heels  at  their  dead  foes, 

Killing  them  twice. 

The  fair  reverence  of  your  Highness  curbs  me 

From  giving  reins  and  spurs  to  my  free  speech: 

I  stand  condemned,  my  rights  and  royalties 

Plucked  from  my  arms  perforce. 

Show  me  the  hand  of  God  that  hath  dismissed  me 

From  my  stewardship,  for  well  I  know 


At  The  Court  of  France.  599 


No  hand  of  blood  and  bone  can  gripe 

The  sacred  handle  of  my  sceptre, 

Unless  he  do  profane,  steal  or  usurp. 

Armies  of  pestilence  shall  strike  your  children  yet  unborn 

And  unbegot,  that  lift  your  hands  against 

My  head,  and  threat  the  glory  of  my  precious  crown. 

A  sceptre  snatched  with  an  unruly  hand, 

Must  be  as  boisterously  maintained  as  gained. 

I  impeach  thy  wrong,  alack,  thou  dost  usurp  authority ! ' 

" '  Who  is  it  thou  dost  call  usurper? 
In  the  name  of  God,  how  comes  it  that  thou  art  called  a 

king? 

Have  I  not  here  the  best  cards  for  the  game, 
To  win  this  easy  match  played  for  a  crown  ? 
And  shall  I  now  give  o'er  the  yielded  set? 
No,  no,  on  my  soul,  it  never  shall  be  said, 
That  which  thou  for  truth  givest  out, 
That  my  estate  in  France  came  through  thine  or  thee.' 

"'Let  me  make  answer — 
"When  I  shun  Scylla,  I  fall  into  Charybdis. 
I  am  moved,  my  lord,  to  say  I  am  the  King's  brother-in- 
law; 
But  I  would  be  better  satisfied  to  see  deliverance.' 

"  '  Not  so,  my  lord,  thou  still  must  stay 
A  twelvemonth  and  a  day.' 

"'My  honour's  at  the  stake.' 

"  '  Canst  thou  dream  I'll  allow  thee  to  go? 
No,  my  lord,  no !     Let  thy  Bears  arm  their  thin 
And  hairless  scalps  against  my  crown, 
I'll  keep  thee  secure  : 
Hence,  be  content,  and  like  an  infant  go  whip  thy  gigge.' 

"  Thus  did  he  humble  him,  and,  when  with  his  knees 


600  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  Life 


He  kissed  the  ground,  they  did  to  their  rest  repair. 
That  was  all  that  I  saw  of  Navarre,  for  he  did 
Purge  his  melancholy,  and  air  himself  in  flight. 

u  The  tales  I  have  told  you  of  courts,  of  princes, 
And  of  the  tricks  in  war,  I  do  think  cannot  choose  but 

content  you  ; 

But  the  foolery  of  the  kings  and  queens  of  France, 
That  I  will  show  you,  will  belie  all  that  I  have  done. 
The  drug-damned  Queen-mother  who  was  fro'  Italy, 
Outcraftied  the  power  of  France,  and  by  juggling 
Witchcraft,  coupled  and  linked  in  league  together 
The  states  against  our  faith. 

This  newly  knit  conjunction  and  inglorious  league 
Enters  into  the  secrets  of  our  fifth  letter; 
And  I  will  recount  in  brief  and  plain  form 
The  particular  and  strange  contract 
'Twixt  the  fair  couple  oi  Navarre.      *        * 


•Continued  ia  Book  IV. 


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